


What's in a name

by liverose



Series: Thought and feeling [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dialogue Heavy, Dom/sub Undertones, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Monster of the Week, Outdoor Sex, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Psychological Torture, Romance, Sarcasm, Slow Build, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 73,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liverose/pseuds/liverose
Summary: "Don't be sorry and don't call me by my name."OrGeralt Anima and Jaskier are on their way to Temeria when the witcher remembers he's a witcher, remember's Anima's an empath and Jaskier a bard. If they can't even do what their titles say why bother with a name. And if you don't have a name what are those who care supposed to call you?
Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Thought and feeling [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635448
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. which way to Temeria

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series, though the jist is spelled out pretty quickly. If you want to read the others I'd read 1, 3 and 4.  
> 2 and 5 are good fun but not plot heavy.

"And what’s in Temeria?” Anima wasn’t one to question Geralt’s decisions frequently but when she did, she gave Jaskier a run for his money when it came to pestering.  
“I don’t know yet.” It wasn’t a lie, it was more an omission. He didn’t know what was in Temeria but the Witch who had given them all those doom and gloom prophesies months back had vaguely, very vaguely spoken of another empath like Anima. One that was mutated in the same way as her, glass in the veins and all that lovely stuff.  
“You’re trotting along at a quick pace like you know. You had that I’m thinking of very important witcher things look in your eye last time we stopped to rest.”  
“Which was a while ago I’d like to add if I may.” Jaskier was thankful that Anima was moving at his pace. He and Geralt played pretty fast and loose with traveling together but he doubted the witcher would leave Anima alone in his care.  
“Geralt stop!” He with a slight grumble of annoyance did, knowing she did not intend to take another step till he stopped brushing her off. When he turned around, he saw it, Anima running her thumb up and down the center of her wrist, something she did when she was nervous or upset.

 _‘Must’ve hurt.’_ When he thought of it and he tried not to, he always ended up landing on that point, nothing else mattered, he didn’t care what she could or could not do, it bothered him that she hurt. That she’d, when pushing herself, would not thumb but claw at those veins as if she could pull out the glass herself. He’d been avoiding the topic lately, unsure of how she would take it. That he planned not just a leisurely stroll through Temeria, that he was looking for answers. If this boy as the witch called him knew how to put more in, he must know how to take it out. If they took it out that would solve a lot of their problems.

  
She knew he wasn’t strolling, he never strolled, he wasn’t fooling anyone but if he could pretend he was fooling for just a little while maybe he’d get a few more days of uninterrupted sleep. He had just recently stopped getting elbowed in the face during her nightmares, and while he could take the hit he was happy they were gone. He didn’t like the nightmares almost as much as he didn’t like the smothering apologies afterwards. “You didn’t have a problem with Temaria when we left Kaer Morhen.” It was a fact, and a fact was the best way to begin middle or end a conversation.  
“I don’t have a problem going there. Just want to know why we’re galloping there. Are we plowing through to turn through sodden, Lyria will be there Geralt. I know I’ve seemed homesick lately but-”  
“Finally learn how to read a map and now you you’re a fucking cartographer.” He snapped, it would have come off more scathing if she knew what a cartographer was. She turned to Jaskier unwilling to ask Geralt.  
“Map maker.” The bard replied tentatively. They normally didn’t fight out right like this, normally they’d brood and grumble themselves dizzy for days or weeks till the pot boiled over. Had he gone blind to the brooding and missed it?  
"I . . . fine nevermind. Forget I asked.” And she winced slightly digging her thumb into her wrist a little harder. Geralt wanted to tell her to stop that, but he didn’t, he just grumbled, turned back and kept riding.

  
Camp was tense and quiet, this was more the arguing that Jaskier was accustomed to. It didn’t sit any better. “I know you two are fine with the silent treatment but what did **I** do to deserve this?”  
“Hmm.” Geralt didn’t talk much on the best of days so the bard turned his eyes over to Anima.  
“What do you want to talk about Jaskier?” She let out an exhausted sigh, it was true she was annoyed with Geralt, not Jaskier, no need to be unnecessarily cold to him.  
“Oh.” He rarely got to pick the topic, resigned to butt in where he could and then guide conversations to his liking. “Um well . . . anything. Did you see that waterfall on our way here? Don’t get that kind of view in Lyria do you? I mean do you? What is there to see in Lyria?” They were always in Thom’s tavern or Thill’s home or Fredrick’s creepy house in the woods. Lyria was far more about company than scenery.  
“Didn’t get a chance to see it, was busy running for my life.” Anima went from sharp to a mumble under her breath.  
 _‘It is for your life!’_ Geralt wanted to bite back. Instead he just stood finding a tree that he could lean against.  
“Hmm things to see . . . I wasn’t much of an outside animal.” They heard Geralt grumble from his distance, he was still listening even if he had removed himself. He didn’t like that phrase, she knew that he didn’t and he knew she didn’t like it any better. “I mean there’s the Lyrian plains.”  
“Plains . . . thrilling.” Jaskier joked hoping to lighten the mood.  
“I liked visiting Yavina. I didn’t travel much but there was nice, like a festival every day, interesting people from interesting places. Food that we couldn’t pronounce, and Thill couldn’t stomach. That meant seconds for me.”  
“Yavina . . . never heard of it. A city?”  
“A river.” Geralt butted in. “It’s not well traveled, lots of people who are hiding from other people. Doubt it’s even on Anima’s trusty map.”  
“Lay off my map!” It wasn’t about the map, nearly everything but the map.  
“It’s a shitty map.” Geralt did his best to get the last word.  
“Don’t listen to him . . . it’s a fine map. You could be a cartographer if you wanted” Jaskier patted Anima on the shoulder.  
“It really is a shitty map.” They chuckled, even Geralt smirked slightly from his place. Anima after the snickering died down, rocked back in her spot for a moment. “I need to find a job . . . maybe that’s it. Three people traveling on two people’s coin is no way to live.”

“That’s not it.” Geralt sighed.  
“Well unless you suddenly want to divulge what **it** is, I’ll focus my energy on that. I could be a gwent player, I’m good at that, or dice, games in general really.”  
“So, you’d be a swindler? Using your ability to know how confident the other player is? Anima we get kicked out enough towns as it is. You’re above that.” Jaskier chastised the thought. “We’re not the best but we’re better than most.” He felt a moral obligation to keep their names from dragging in the mud.  
“No swindler, no ability. I’ve always been good at cards, even before." Her head leaned back even further, on the edge of tipping, looking annoyed at the very sky. “Better than my father was, if he had let me play instead of him, we wouldn’t have gone into such debt.” There was a frown hidden in her boasting smile, one that Geralt couldn’t see but heard. His ears strained harder to hear every inflection of her voice. She had never talked about her birth family before, granted he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the little he remembered of his. “But card tables are no place for ten-year olds.” She grimaced as she tried to mimic a long-forgotten voice. She was older than him when they took her, she knew exactly what was going on, he couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.  
“Thom is your father.” He stated with the same beginning middle end fact filled confidence as earlier.  
“Yeah.” She stopped, tried not to think of memories she had purposely forgotten. “Ok fine not a card player. Can’t exactly fall back on my old profession as a what’d Lambert call it . . . a road tart?” That elicited not a grumble but closer to a growl from Geralt, he wasn’t sure if she was trying to stoke him back into an argument or just had forgotten phrases that botherd him.

“Ooh people used to pay me to tell their fortunes.”  
“But you’re an empath not a Sooth Sayer.” Jaskier reminded her confusedly.  
“Ah, people go to sooth Sayers in the hopes of hearing what they want. And I always know what people want.” That was her mantra, always had been, less than what would be liked had changed.  
“Sounds like more swindling” Jaskier warned.  
“Sorry that all my skills lean towards . . . appeasing people.”  
“You don’t have to do that anymore Anima.” Geralt sighed, he had spent years trying to convince her of that, but words can only do so much against experience and mutagens.  
“I need to do something! I won’t sit idly by a second time and watch money crumble a family.”  
“Aw you view us as a family? Wait does that mean I’m the child in the scenario?”  
“Or brother. For the sake of argument there’s no real distinction.” Anima shrugged, she had never been good at metaphors.  
“There’s a huge distinction between a child and a brother. So which- “  
“Anima we’re here. I’m here. Nothing’s crumbling.” Geralt didn’t want her traveling down that road. Was unsure where she had gotten they idea that they in anyway were drifting apart.  
“I . . .” She had a bunch of words to follow that but she shook her head and stood. “Think I’ll turn in early.” She was angry sad and tired all in one long drawn moment.

  
“Don’t you think it’s a bit too early?” Jaskier noted how the sun had only barely gone down.  
“Better an hour early than ten minutes late.” Someone had said that before, she chose not to think back to who. She went to take her bed roll from her bag, till Geralt spoke up, finally leaning away instead of into the tree.  
“Don’t.” There was more asking than anger in the demand. “Mine is over on Roach’s side. I’ll join you in a bit.”  
“I’ll just elbow you again. I’d rather not. Hate to break that magical nose of yours.” She finally smiled for him. She knew he was slowly but surely trying his best, and maybe arguing over Temaria, or maps or jobs wasn’t worth continuing to prod and snap at his attempts.  
“Your elbow is not going to break my nose.” It was a weird almost daring statement. “And I’d rather you elbow me in the face than be stuck in your head thrashing at air.”  
“Aw how warm and-“  
“I could break your nose.” She got a full, almost perverse smile out of Geralt.  
“Ruined . . . that is.” Jaskier shook his head, he’d never get these two. “Record time though. Doesn’t it help? Talking through your emotions?”  
“Take it from me Jaskier, emotions are overrated.” Anima gave in, placing her bedroll back in her bag, instead grabbing Geralt’s _. ‘It is comfier.’_ She tried to make it not all about appeasement.

And the nightmares did come, and she did thrash, this time her elbow connected with Geralt’s throat, causing a cough and a wheeze. “Trying to outdo yourself?” His voice handn’t fully retuned as he rubbed his wind pipe.  
“I’m sorry.” And she was shrinking, best she could, squirming to try and get space but the hand not still massaging his throat held her in place.  
"You know I hate sorrys and we both knew it was going to happen. What are these one’s about? They seem worse.” He kissed at the base of her neck, trying to uncurl the shrinking.  
“That’s not what I’m sorry for . . . I mean I am but-“  
“Anima?” He tugged slightly on her hair.  
“I know I’m dancing round again. I’m sorry for picking a fight. It’s not that I didn’t know we were headed to Temeria. It’s that you know something I don’t about that place and you don’t trust me enough to-“  
“It’s not about trust.”  
“Then what the hell is it about?” She didn’t whine they both hated whining, but it hung dangerously on the edge, only frustration weighing it down.  
“It’s about . . . keeping you safe.” Instead of kissing, his chin bit in deep at where shoulder meets neck, his arm’s holds on her tightened. No longer comforting, more protective in his grip. As if it was upon them, some creature of the night was going to swoop down and take her from him.  
“Are we unsafe . . . now? Like in mortal danger unsafe?” Anima was still squirming but now it was to be sure blood was getting to her whole body.  
“Hmm.” He got the point, and while his head staid perched and his hold didn’t move, it lessened slightly enough. “Are you still scared?”  
“Of dying? Yes Geralt it’s number one on my fear list, two is open water, three is vampires . . . or maybe lightening I don’t like lightning.”  
“You’ve been bitten by a bruxa, have you ever been struck by . . . . If you’re still scared of dying you’re fine for now. We’re fine.” He let his own blood start to cool.  
“Lyria is known for vampires, you get used to them. I’ve never been struck by lightening but the prospect scares me. I’m in danger all the time, you should be more used to that, more scared someone’s going to cut off your hair in the middle of the night.”  
“That’s a silly fear.”  
“Most are.” She reached back a hand letting her fingers smooth out the snarl still in his face.

  
“I’m . . . I don’t want to get used to you being . . . not safe. I should be able to protect you, protect all of us.”  
“Your credentials seem in order to me, we’re all alive as far as I know.”  
“This isn’t a joke Anima.”  
“You wouldn’t know a joke if it slapped you cross the face.” Her hand trailed down, kneading at his tense neck. “But sometimes all you can do is laugh. Sometimes there’s nothing else-“  
“There’s always something else.” Geralt’s voice reverberated through her back into her own chest.  
“And you’re going to find that something else in Temeria?”  
“Going to try.”  
“Cashing in one of your do not follow, do not ask passes?”  
“I don’t know yet. I’ll know it when I see it.” Geralt gave a yawn. “Can you please stop squirming away and can we please go to sleep?”  
“I don’t knows make me worry Geralt, for you. You’re not one to not know.” Her hands then drifted to stoically frozen arms, tracing soft lines and mystery shapes across them.  
“Don’t worry. Just sleep.” He closed his eyes, sleep would do them both good and that was a fact.  
“Says the man holding me in a death grip. Fine.” She let out a yawn to match. “I’ll sleep but I’ll still worry for you. Someone has to.”  
“Hmm. Can you worry in the morning?”  
“Go to sleep Geralt.” And he did, and Anima worried herself for hours until sleep took her too.

“You rest ok Anima? You look . . . not so well.”  
“Thanks Jaskier you always know what to say to lift a girl’s spirt.” Anima was rubbing at mercilessly dry eyes.  
“Girls yes. You’re a whole different beast entirely, I don’t think anyone outside of Geralt could lift the burdens of your spirit. Maybe Thill, you like her well enough.”  
“You’re making me blush.” Her muscles ached, everything ached.  
“Hmm.” Geralt watched her groan and stretch in all manner of bizarre angles. “I told you to sleep.” He was concerned but also a bit offended that her worries kept her awake, he couldn’t assure her to sleep.  
“That you did. Well Temeria isn’t coming to us. Let’s go.” Even her legs felt like led. She hadn’t been sleeping well before, but now her worries were keeping her from sleeping at all, at least in her nightmares her body could rest.

He didn’t speed this time, keeping his pace slow as it had been before, Temaria could wait, it wasn’t going anywhere. He might not have been galloping but Roach did have to skirt out of the way as one, two three horses full sprinted past them. By the fourth horse Geralt struck from the bushes, guiding and pulling at the reigns turning best he could so as not harm the animal. “From one monster to another. Why do the gods spite me?”  
“This has nothing to do with your gods.” Geralt stated flatly, knowing this man would be quick to annoy him.  
‘”Let us go, my daughter I have to get her out of here.” Geralt cocked his head seeing the young girl hiding under a much too big cloak.  
“I have no interest in you. Or your daughter.” He did not sound comforting, more impatient than anything.  
“Geralt?” Anima and Jaskier were finally catching up. “What is everyone running from?”  
“Should we be running?” Jaskier added. “Not you, I’m sure you’re going to barrel in like a charging bull, but us . . . less heavy hided . . . keep our distance?” Jaskier asked this as a mere hypothetical. Of course they would follow him but the level of Geralt’s warnings to stay behind was a decent enough barometer of danger.  
“A woman?!” The man seemed more concerned than any human outside of the one’s she had lived with had been in years. “Witcher I don’t know what that woman is to you-“  
“Hmm” He knew what the human was implying, either that she was a slave or perhaps if the human was thoroughly uneducated, his next meal.  
“If you care about her even in the slightest, you’ll turn around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'A light begining because it gets pretty angsty from here.


	2. Shrug it off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio are a lot of things quiet and inconspicuous they are not.

“You sealed it, straight into the beast’s mouth we go.” Jaskier sighed but just slightly, a very unimpressed here we go again sigh. _‘Maybe it’s something different though. If it’s another noon wraith I’ll pull my hair out but it could be some new adventure entirely.’_ And Jaskier’s steps sped up in aspirations of new stories to tell. “Don’t dawdle Anima” She went to match him, aimed to pass the bard, he was fast but she was getting faster.  
“Woman you have to stay back!” The man was nearly praying for common sense to hit her.  
“Anima stay there.” Geralt warned, he didn’t sense anything, but this man seemed unhinged enough that he might drag her by the hair as far as he could get. _‘Not far.’_ He placed that thought on the back of the stove.  
“So it’s targeting women? What is it?” Another horse ran by them, the man desperately leaning forward to join them. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell us what’s going on.” Geralt held hard at the reigns, lifting them as proof.  
“Not it, him, he’s got Hereward’s wife and so the king did nothing before it was too late. He had taken all the women in town under his spell, some of the boys too, just stole the youth straight from the place. Occasionally they return but they’re . . . not them, just waiting for something, withering and dying. If he doesn’t get them, the dogs do, they’re all nearly rabid by now-“  
“Yet you all escaped how?” Geralt asked skeptically.  
“We hid, we all-“ The man pointed at those who had left him behind. “All hid. Left when the dogs were distracted by some unfortunate girl who wandered into town.”  
“And of the girl?”  
“She wasn’t one of ours we had to think of our-“  
“Hmm.” Geralt was never short of bothered that most intelligent creatures cared less for their race and more of their banners.  
“She’s not one of ours either.” He pointed as if he had seen a ghost, haunted by Anima’s sheer presence. “They’ll rip her to shreds before he can sink his claws into her.”  
“When you say claws, you wouldn’t mean literal claws?” Geralt hoped it was some monster. Humans while not physically imposing, were unpredictable, and that made Geralt slightly uneasy.  
“How would I know? I’ve never seen him. Please let us go before the dogs come after us.” And Geralt did, just like that.  
“Hmm.” That face, the thinking very important witcher things face, sat long on his features. What spell could this man, if he was just a man, be using? If it was a beast what sort of beast? Were Anima and Jaskier better off following the runaways and he’d find them later. Or because he was the safest person place or thing within miles was it better to bring them along. “Anima?”  
“If you leave me here I will never forgive you!” As most of her threats it was empty, but Geralt was stuck between two viable options and if she made the decision for him who was he to question?  
“Fine then hurry up.” It wasn’t her fault that she was frozen in place but he simply hated wasting time.

“So what is it we’re after now?” Anima slowly approached, not knowing if something would pop out of the bushes at them.  
“ **We’re** not after anything. I don’t know exactly what it is.” He was unsurprised at the sour look he got by adding another I don’t know to the books.  
“They think it’s a person, though Geralt doesn’t seem quiet keen on that assessment, that has been stealing all the women from Ellander.”  
“Ok.” Anima pondered what a village full of nothing but men would be like, she folded her arms cross her chest all the more sour. _‘But the emotions of men I’ve had plenty practice influencing.’ T_ he task seemed less daunting, she could protect herself.  
“Ok? And if this mystery person doesn’t get to you the rabid dogs will.” Jaskier added, maybe she was underestimating the severity of the situation.  
“That doesn’t sound . . . great.” Anima glanced from her left to her right. Intelegnt creatures she stood a chance against, despite getting faster if rabid dogs got her scent, she would not.  
“Just stay close. The both of you.” Geralt took Roach’s regins but did not mount, he would walk.  
“Fair enough.” Jaskier nodded, this was not a good sign, Geralt lingering to stay that close.  
“Anima do you hear me?” Geralt spoke firmly as to emphasize this was not a negotiable point.  
“Yes yes, close to you got it.” Anima was nodding, still watching, listening, she did not have witcher senses and the forest was as daunting and impenetrable as always.  
“Do you?” Geralt stopped again, doubting she was listening at all, or maybe just not believing. “Anima as long as you stay close, you know no man or beast will get to you two right?” He lifted her hood over her head, pushing some hair back, letting his hand hold with a strength at the base of her neck. Maybe it was possible to hide her in plain sight. “Anima when we’re in town, don’t speak. You can make up for the words all the way to the next one and I won’t complain, just inside the walls stay quiet.” Her voice would just as quickly give her away. She let out a slightly put out breath but nodded in agreement. “We’re not in town yet.” He gave out an equally exhausted sigh, what would it take for her to not fear the woods? “I’m here. Just stay close.” He tried to be patient and assuring but the response he got to his repeated request was a laugh.  
“What are you going to do tie our wrists together?”  
“Hmm” It was as if was considering the idea. “Fresh out of rope.”

They did go into town and Anima did remain silent but as Geralt interrogated the village folk it wasn’t long before they started questioning back. A merchant was beginning to stare too long at the cloaked figure in his shop.

  
“You were saying?” Geralt was not used to the focus of a room being commanded by anyone else but him.  
“Why are you hiding?” The merchant lost all pretense of interest in the witcher. Anima did not speak, just tried to lower her face to conceal best she could. “You’re just a little thing aren’t you?” He began to approach Anima but Geralt’s hand held at his chest. The merchant looked down only for a second before gluing his eyes back to Anima. “Must fit nicely in the witcher’s hands. How about a kinder embrace?” The merchant’s eyes were hungry, too hungry almost starved. Anima glanced up just a peak, annoyed more than anything, here she was rendered mute when she had so many delightful comebacks for his uncouth words. As hungry as the merchant’s eyes were they were no match to the anger in Geralt’s.  
“Do not touch them.” It was no comeback, it was instead just unfluffed firmness and anger, it was protective and dark.  
“Them? Don’t you mean-“  
“Mutant!” Jaskier shouted getting the merchant and Geralt’s attention, even Anima’s head tilted slightly at the exclamation.  
“What?” The merchant’s gaze lost a fraction of it’s hunger.  
“My companion here is a mutant. Bit self councious about it. That’s uh . . . hense the cloak and silence you know?” Jaskier sadly knew people tended to lose interest, became more afraid or disgusted by the presence of mutants. Anima’s head hung beyond what was comfortable, curling in her shoulders, playing the part she took a few sheepish steps back.  
“Least it knows it’s place.” There was no other decent response to that than the growl Geralt let fill the room. “Not flaunting it’s abonation like a badge of honor. Look at it-” The merchant sneared at Geralt’s broad and unshrinking posture.  
“Call me **it** again.” Geralt’s previously bracing hand bunched into a fist within the merchant’s shirt, demanding his attention to hold on him.  
“And if I don’t-“ The merchant was pushing fruitlessly at Geralt’s fist, hungry and desperate to get closer to Anima. ‘Don’t . . . Don’t” He stuttered just a bit and they immediately knew what Anima was doing, using her power to shove some emotion outside lust down the merchant’s throat. That emotion was content, as she let her heartbeat catch his, feeling it beat humming bird fast she bunched her fists, easing in the feeling of not hunger but content, if he was going to let emotion supersede reason atleast it could be a calm one. “I don’t know anymore about the disappearances.” The merchant spoke as if he and Geralt had never stopped their earlier conversation. Anima held her breath, turning on her heels as to not let out a feminine sigh, rolling her eyes as she did so.  
“Hmm” Geralt released his fist and gave the merchant a heavy shove back. It was Geralt’s turn to lose all interest in the conversation, instead walking away to catch Anima’s wrist. “Stay close.” The anger had not left his voice entirely but he tried to keep it as a grumble not a growl. Anima gave a shrug and leading Geralt along she finally went outside, letting out that sigh burning in her chest.

“We’ll find a room. It isn’t safe for you out here.” Geralt knew his words were cutting away just as much self esteem as the merchant’s did. But facts were facts and a human would find out sooner rather than later that she was a woman. He’d apologize for hurting her feelings later if it meant he didn’t have to apologize for her being hurt in another way. Anima just shrugged.

“An . . . You know I don’t feel you should be embarrassed right? That guy is just a belligerent asshole and there’s no fixing that. What does-“ And Jaskier was cut off by another shrug. What else could she do?

They got a room at the closest Inn. Geralt locked the door, pushed a dresser infront of the window and a bookcase cross the door. “Anima are you alright?” He watched her go from seated to an agressive half lay back on the bed. Geralt knew it wasn’t so much the merchant’s opinion of mutants that was bothering her. It was the hungry eyes, the offering of hands, maybe the lust she touched in on when connected to the merchant. He knew it was reminding her of customers she didn’t speak of from her barmaid days and locking her in the room was not helping. He watched her sit up, eyes widining for a second, then lulling relaxed as she just shrugged again. “Hmm” He weighed out the risk vs reward of what he was going to say next. “You can speak in here . . . just softly ok? I’m here.” He hoped the small phrase he spoke just for her would warm Anima slightly. He pulled back her hood and grimaced at the forced smile on her face, her eyes were normally off white except for her pupils but they seemed immeasurably dark.  
“Fine.” She finally whispered. “I’m fine.” She tried to smile harder, better, she wanted to convince the wall of worry that was Geralt that she wasn’t going to shatter into a thousand pieces. Geralt tentatively ran his fingers through her hair as he crouched to meet her eye to eye. He did not lean in closer, he couldn’t, she would flinch.  
“I’ll figure this out fast ok? We won’t linger here I promise.” He wanted to tug playfully on her hair like he normally did when she didn’t seem to be paying attention but that could’ve caused tears to well and her to curse at herself for doing so.  
“Seems like the dogs here stand on two legs.” She chuckled, and she smiled almost a real smile.

Geralt had to leave, and they had to stay, and remarkably he didn’t get as much push back as he normally did. “If it’s exciting you have to remember what happened ok? You never remember the important parts.”  
“I remember I just don’t tell you.” Geralt smirked as he put on his armor.  
“Well that’s rude!” Jaskier puffed. “Lock us in a room like house pets and-“  
“We’re not house pets Jaskier.” Anima interrupted. “House pets don’t get to sit on the bed.” And with a bit of a bounce she sat on the mattress throwing a pillow at Jaskier. She would be bored but even she could realize being bored to death was better than normal everyday death. “Can you bring back food Geralt? I mean if you’re hurt skip the food but if-“ She tried to seem playful, aloof, like she had gotten over the day before.

Geralt knew she had not, no amount of bouncing or small smiles would out weigh the night before. She had tossed and turned as normal but she didn’t elbow him this night, instead she kicked at his legs, trying to get away, get space and he had let her. He still held at her waist but he let her move away within reason, and while that hurt, tugged at feelings even he could register, he had to let her take some space. He’d press later. _‘Tonight . . . or tomorrow moring how ever long this shit takes.’_ They’d be rid of the man/monster they’d be rid of the dogs, and he’d cross this place right off Anima’s shitty map, they wouldn’t be back.  
“I can get food it’s not me they’re after.” Jaskier pointed out.  
“I’ll get you something to eat. You both get intolerably cranky if you don’t eat.” Geralt rolled his eyes. “And you. Don’t leave, not for anything ok?” He pointed sternly at Jaskier.  
“I . . . Ok ok jeeze.” Jaskier put up his hands in submission.

“I’m going crazy here. How can you just lie there like it doesn’t bother you?” It was right around supper time when Jaskier started pacing.  
“Because it doesn’t bother me. Take a nap Jaskier, or play your lute or do something, stop pacing you know that annoys me.” Anima was quite content just laying out on the mattress, she could nap all day, without the dark she could finally sleep, only opening an eye for a minute.  
“Everything I do annoys you.” Jaskier snapped back.  
“You’re confusing me with Geralt.” She let out a bit of a bored yawn.  
“Aren’t you hungry?” Jaskier wanted an emotion any emotion from Anima as she stood up and walked over to the bookcase they couldn’t move back infront of the door.  
“Yes. That’s why I asked Geralt to bring back food remember?” She began leafing through pages of words that she didn’t understand.  
“And what if he doesn’t come back what do we do then? Starve?”  
“Yeah I guess so.” She shrugged wondering to herself how long Jaskier’s tantrum would last. She had patience, but she was hungry and tired so it wasn’t as everlasting as either of them would have liked.  
“Would you tell Geralt I went downstairs. Even if it was just for a second?”  
“I wouldn’t” Anima shrugged again. “Wouldn’t have to. You’ve seen him track things he sees footsteps that have long since passed. He’d notice yours surely.”  
“You make a point.” Jaskier huffed down to his bed, taking out a piece of paper from his belongings and angrily.

It was morning, early moring, too early when Anima heard rustling in their room. Too loud to be Geralt he’d have swept in like a breeze. “Jaskier?” She didn’t open her eyes right away, not wanting to greet morning just yet, she pulled the covers over her head. “What the hell are you doing up Jaskier?” She finally grumbled, lifting the blanket to watch him open the door. “Jaskier?” She now whispered, franticly searching for her cloak lest anyone walk by. “Jaskier?” A little bit louder this time as she hung awkwardly half out the door half inside. Jaskier was just walking, not speaking or acknowledging her presence in the slightest and that was more alarming than his shuffling footsteps. No doubt the most concerning part, the lack of speech, even if he was ignoring what Geralt said he should have quipped at her about his sense of adventure, or how fun breaking the rules was. _‘Is he sleepwalking?’_ Anima chewed on her bottom lip for a second, wincing as she could already hear the lecture that Geralt would rain down upon them. “Fuck.” She ignored that thought and better judgement, following Jaskier, keeping her face down as she creepily hung behind the bard following at about arms length. _‘Nothing to see here random people . . . this is totally normal._ ’ She hoped they weren’t staring, but they would stare anyway what did it really matter?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this seems like it's meandering I apologize, I just get rambling and don't stop


	3. Calm the dogs anger the Butcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing good happens in a butcher shop

Once outside she tried again. “Jaskier.” It was a whisper still but with slightly more force. She got right up behind him and shook at his shoulders, nothing. She walked up infront of him, looking in his eyes, they looked the same, wide and full of well not life so much, they were open atleast. _‘Do you sleepwalk with your eyes open?’ S_ he waved a hand infront of his face, nothing. “Jaskier I’m sorry, your face will rival a cherub still .” And she slapped him right across the face, something, finally something.  
“Anima?” He rubbed at his cheek.  
“Yes! Yes it’s me lets go.” She took his hand in hers and started to pull, back to the Inn, everything would be fine. Nothing was ever fine.  
“Anima I don’t think I can. My feet won’t stop moving or . . . leaving like I have to be somewhere, drawn to it or some . . . one definitely someone.”  
“Ok Not good, not good.” Anima wracked her brain. She didn’t need saving, she needed to know how to save someone, she had no beastiary to reference, she didn't know what was happening. “Ok Jaskier?”  
“Yes?” He was walking away and she had to jog to catch up with him.  
“I’m going to try and latch onto you . . ."  
"I'm not really big on spells Anima."  
"It's not exactly. . . would you rather be pulled into the great unkown then?" She figued now was not the time for a dicertation of her abilities.  
“Won’t it just start taking you?”  
“I don’t know, I can pull back, if I feel myself moving and we’ll . . . go from there. Worst case scenario just slap me in the face, worked for you. Plan?”  
“Don’t love it but choices are scarce.” Jaskier was still walking forward.  
“This might feel a little weird.” And she focused, effortlessly finding Jaskier’s heartbeat, hearing him him gasp and groan. She tried to connect, but there was something else there, another latch, that had never happened before. Was someone, someone like her trying to pull Jaskier towards them? _‘Does it even work that way?’_ She tried harder, pushing harder, trying on a nonphysical plane to strong arm her way over the heartbeat. The world was going white, she could hear the sound of sea shells but she pushed on, holding tight on Jaskier, the turquoise beacon that she could still see. And she looked harder, that’s when she saw it, felt it, a pulling force, it was dark purple like a deep bruise. “What the fuck is that?! Who is that?!” Could she grab it? Was that something she was capable of? She’d try, and she’d succeed, and the second she touched it the string recoiled, off to who the hell cared where.  
“Anima?” Jaskier was shaking her. “Anima lets go. They heard you.”  
“Huh? Who heard . . . oh shit the dogs!” And they sprinted towards the Inn, not that it would be much safer but perhaps Geralt was there. _‘No he’d be yelling at us in the street by now. Focus Anima run.’_ But just as predicted, Anima could fight and now she knew, save an intelligent being, but she was no match for rabid dogs. One grabbed her round the waist lifting her up kicking and screaming. _‘Ok just one. I could connect to him if I focus there’s got to be some human in there, like the merchant.’_ But then she felt a hand grabbing each wrist. _‘Three fuck that’s a lot of digging.’_ She was still confident she could do it.  
“Let her go!” Jaskier shouted but he was met by three more, pushing then kicking at the poor bard.  
‘ _Six I can’t do six. Try just the three kicking at Jaskier, do that . . . move from there. Is there more of them?’_ As she was pulled away she focused first on the man who appeared to be kicking hardest. _‘Calm just keep him calm’_ And it was a vile gut churning heartbeat but she got him to cool down, to stop kicking. The tricky part was holding one person’s emotions and then thinning out your heartbeat to reach out to another. _‘Two.’_ The sea shell sounds gave way to ringing as the distance grew greater and she had to try harder. “Jaskier fucking run!” She couldn’t hold them forever especially if she was going after a third. ‘ _Calm just . . . calm the fuck down.’_ And her heartbeat stretched thinner, she was losing control, losing her grip on the physical space, she had to let go soon, now, yesterday.  
“Run. Right. Anima we’ll come and get you. Anima?” She had passed out but had given Jaskier enough time to run, hide, slowly creep his way out of town to find Geralt.

Something wasn’t right. Not just the fact that searching into morning had only given him a direction he needed to follow. That walk would be days, deeper into Temeria, and he didn’t need his companions to die of starvation while he was gone. No it was that as he got closer to the gates of town he could smell him, Jaskier, and he was sweating, and by the amount of broken shrubbery he had been running. _‘Why doesn’t he ever stay like I tell him.’_ He grumbled for a few moments, following Jaskier’s trail a few yards, but it was biting at the back of his brain. Jaskier’s footsteps went from running to jogging, then pausing to breathe only to jog again, less and less broken foliage as he went, the bard had realized he wasn't being chased. ‘ _I need to go back to town. See what shit he's gotten into.’_ And he turned, he’d get clues on what happened to Jaskier, and he’d be able to check on Anima.

In town it was more of the same, more sweat more footsteps, but this time more Anima. _‘Fuck.'_ He cursed at his constant flow of misfortune. _'So Jaskier had run to the woods and Anima . . .’_ He could see where she stood and then simply didn’t stand. _‘She was taken by men and Jaskier had run to find me. What the hell were they doing out here in the first place?’_

He was following Anima's scent, long dried fruit and cracking tea leaves. He was trying his best to follow the footsteps of the dogs but they were disjointed, all over the place. _'Just Anima then.'_ He stopped, looking down and just focused on his sense of smell. That's why he almost didn't hear it, almost.  
"Geralt? Getalt?!" Jaskier was looking worse for wear, gripping at his side, a limp to his step as he approached the witcher. Geralt grabbed Jaskier by his shoulder, grumbling and glancing over the bard. Pulling uncermoniously at his hair to get a good look at a deep scratch in his cheek. When he was sure Jaskier wouldn't die he frothed further, over the thought the same could't be said for those who had done this. Then finally he boiled over.  
"Jaskier!" He shook at the still viced shoulder.  
"I know I know but-"  
"I asked one thing of you Jaskier."  
"I know Geralt but-"  
"I asked you to stay put."  
"I couldn't help it Geralt it was-:  
"They have her now and they'll . . . they'll-" He shook his head violently to shake those thoughts.  
"Ok Ok. Let's find her. She hasn't been gone long-"  
"Jaskier if they touched her I'll-" It was hard to speak through clenched teeth.  
"Then we'll take care of her." Jaskier spoke softly and slowly. "Right? Like we always do? She's a needy one." He tried in vain to joke some of the rage out of Geralt. "She knows you'll come for her right? Don't keep her waiting." The words seemed to sink in and grind up in Geralt's mind. He let go of Jaskier, throwing him not quiet to the ground but to a measurable distance.

Anima woke up with a fright, it had been longer than Jaskier had measured, it had been hours. _'Ugh my arms.'_ She glances up and her hands were tied together tighter than necessary, she was hanging from them by a very intimidating hook. She tried not to panic. _'My jaw?'_ She realized that her cheek burned from a couple heavy handed slaps, possibly to wake her. Her jaw itself was aching because there was a cotton cloth fastened with some sort of belt in her mouth, she couldn't close it rightfuly. _'Means nothing's got in.'_ There was a horrible pulpy sweet taste in her mouth, it wasn't what could have been worse, it was disorienting her though. The room was spinning. Despite all that she tried to remain calm. Looking down, squinting one eye shut to decrease the spinning, she noticed her top was gone. She wriggled, her pants gone. She bucked against the stone wall behind her to try and get free from the hook. She noticed her smalls were still on her. _'Good Good, that's good.'_ She forced her muscles to go lax. _'Don't squirm, weirdos love it when you squirm.'_ She took long relaxing breaths, closing her eyes. _'Wait till someone comes down. Maybe you can attach to them, make them let you go.'_ As she opened her eyes all that smooth reason fled. She did panic, she did thrash, she was not calm, screaming against her gag. It wasn't a man that scared her it was a meat cleaver, it was sharpened stakes, knives, so many knives of different shapes and sizes, some still had dried blood on them. _'They're going to fucking filet me!'_ She heard footsteps coming down the stairwell she couldn't crane her neck side enough to see. _'Fuck, fuck. Not going to die in some foul smelling . . . is this a butcher shop?'_ She knew well enough what blood and guts smelled like. ' _Are they going to eat me. Cannibals, beats out lightening.'_ Her mind started to ramble, her eyes grew wide and unblinking locked in on the blades, she began to hyperventilate. Under the bonds at her wrists skin began to bleed, as she kicked thrashed and moved her body in any probable way to get herself free.

Bit on the nose, a tragic irony Jaskier would have noted as they stared up at the butcher's sign _._ The fact wasn't lost on Geralt who impossibly seemed angrier than before. He didn't have time to be angry though, he let out a leveling breath, tucking away any emotions and pushed through the door. "She's downstairs Jaskier." His voice was cold, detatched, watching as a group of men sat from their drinks and their seats.  
"What about-"  
"Now Jaskier!" And his burst sent Jaskier running. Before a man could reach out and grab the bard Geralt was on them, laying in a hearty punch, twice and a third time, till the man was still and bleeding. As he stood to wait for the next bum rush that was sure to come something caught his eye. Anima's cloak, her tunic and pants littered across the floor. He didn't even remember taking out the other five, perhaps he blacked out or perhaps he was too fast for even his mind to register. He could have killed them, he wanted to kill them but as he dutifully picked up Anima's clothes he figured they weren't, in the moment, worth his time. Looking down at them with one parting glance he remembered their faces, the smell of their blood, he would be back for them.

Jaskier was trying, Melitle was he trying but as he stood on his tip toes to try and get Anima free she was throwing him off balance with all her kicking and writhing. "It's me Anima! It's me Jaskier! You need to calm down. No one is going to hurt you." Jaskier was beginning to wonder why he was always the one undoing knots. _'Nimble fingers.'_ He tried to steady the shake, Anima did look quite out of her mind.

The voice, if that's what she was hearing from some abandoned tunnel some place far off, was not registering right.  
"Hurt me? They're going to eat me! Dogs the lot of them! Please who ever you are, just give me the decency of killing me first." It was pointless, she knew nothing was getting through the gag but some dripping drool and muffled cries. She continued to kick and fight and when this mystery person's hands got close enough to her's she scratched, this was useless too, she had to be more practical with her time if she wanted to live. _'Calm down Anima.'_ Tears were breaching as she took long breaths. _'Just one. You can still save yourself, just the one.'_ It was with a growl all her own she focused hard on her own heartbeat, hoping not to hear the sounds of one of the blades being sharpened. Another sound hit her ear, not blades, footsteps. _'Faster. Focus faster.'_

"Jaskier?" Geralt had made his way down the steps, holding Anima's clothes with an unnecessary amount of care. Maybe somewhere in his head he thought they'd been to late, that he hadn't protected her. Her blood was sharper and more distinct than that of the animal carcases. "Anima!" The clothes dropped and he braced his shoulder at her waist, once he had her off the hook he could feel her slamming both fists into his back. "Anima it's ok we're here." He placed her on the ground undid her wrists and wished he was surprised when she grabbed at the biggest cleaver she could find, holding it out to keep them at bay, stumbling herself into a ball in the corner.

 _'Time. You've bought yourself time Anima. Stop crying and focus you idiot.'_ Her eyes clenched shut as she tried to find where the world went white, it would be a sanctuary, when she normally viewed it as a battle ground.  
"Anima!" Something was breaking her concentration. "I'm here alright? I . . . here." A heartbeat was thumping in her ears, it wasn't her's.

 _'Whose.'_ Watery eyes opened and someone was holding out a shirt, her shirt. She grabbed it, then looked to her right hand, she'd have to drop the cleaver to put it on. ' _It's a trap.'_ Her eyes clenched shut again. _'Alright, focus.'_ She pleaded over the sound of the heartbeat.  
"Anima." It ripped her from her concentration again.  
' _Is this some sort of spell?'_ She opened her eyes, again closing one to break at the spinning slightly. Arms, hands, they were up in the air.  
"Jaskier you too." One set of hands prompted another to rise. She could cut them, run and slice at anything that moved, that wasn't her skill set though. What if that just made them angrier, what if they chased her. She began to hyperventilate again.  
"What's wrong with-"  
"Anima you know how I feel about platonic nudity." Geralt tried to joke, tried to convince her that he was there, to help her not hurt her. There was a blackish green tinge to the spit leaking from her gag, they had posioned her in some way and she either didn't remember them or couldn't see them. "Please put your clothes on." He stated patiently.  
 _'Ok they want me to get dressed. There are worse demands. Just until the spinning stops. Till I can focus, then I'll get away.'_ She slowly placed the cleaver down. She put her pants on first, not wanting to let her disoriented eyes off them, she tried to rush on her shirt but as her head popped out she noted with dismay that it was gone. It was gone and some fleshy black and white blot was bobbing weaving and spinning infront of her. She felt she might get sick if the gaging against the leather belt was any indication.  
"Anima I'm going to take this out of your mouth ok?" The voice, now calmer sounded like something she vaugely knew, still warped and echoy but less out of place than anything else. She nodded and she watched as black gave way to that fleshy tone and his hands got closer, she could feel the heat radiating off of them. The gag slowly gave way and she could feel her jaw hang open for a second till knuckles lifted it shut.  
"I want it back!" It hurt at first to talk, but that was simple enough, they got her point right?  
"What?" The warped voice remained calm even as she shouted.  
"The cleaver. Give it back." She was stupid if she thought they'd hand it back, but if they, by chance, were stupider she'd hack them to pieces with it.  
"Fine." And it slid cross the floor, the hand even guided her pawing fingers to the hilt. She raised it and swung but before it could come down with any real force, she heard a grunt, saw the hand holding at the blade, pale flesh gave way to red, gave way to blood.

"Geralt why would you-"  
"Geralt?" She knew that name, it sloshed too and fro in her mind as she desperately trired to place it.  
"Hmm." And she knew that sound, she'd know it anywhere. It was a soothing little grumble, it calmed her just the slightest.  
"Geralt?" The hand left the blade but she didn't lunge again, she still held it white knuckled in her right hand but she reached out with her other and pawed at the face in front of her, he only grumbled slightly when a finger accidentally hit his eye.  
"Hmm." She heard it again and finally let out a sigh of near release. Even if it wasn't Geralt and this was indeed a trap at least he was playing the part for now.  
"Anima I'm going to pick you up ok?" The voice was less warped, it sounded more like Geralt.  
"No." She pushed herself to her feet using the wall to brace herself. If this wasn't Geralt he'd just grab her.  
"Ok." She thinks he sat down, but he was still just a mishmash of shapes so what did she really know? "We'll wait." And a few minutes passed in uneasy silence.  
"So if he's Geralt. That means you're supposed to be Jaskier right?" She hadn't forgotten the other blob in the room.  
"Supposed to be . . . at least you remember us. Don't know which is better the amnesia years back or . . . this. You didn't try to murder Geralt last time so I guess . . . this is worse? Well he nearly got us all killed so . . .a wash?" It was too many words, all at once, all at her. But that was Jaskier right? Too much, too fast? She gave another heavy sigh. If this was a trap it was a good one.  
"Dogs aren't that thorough." She spoke hesitantly. "They just wanted-"  
"Anima I'll wait, but I really would rather take you out of here." The voice that now sounded exactly like Geralt stated just as calmly as he ever was.  
"Where do you want to take me?" She had no reason any longer to doubt they were anyone other than who they claimed to be, but she was still flighty. Still for some reason she was not completely sold.  
"Well." He paused to think, just as Geralt would. "We need to get whatever hasn't been ransacked from our room then-"  
"I can't go back out there. More dogs." She shook her head, she would not buckle on this point.  
"Hmm." More thinking. "Jaskier will go to the room. We can't stay here but-"  
"So you won't wait, you'll leave me." Her tone went from scared to a bit angry. The real Geralt wouldn't leave her. She came to the conclusion that in holding onto those three men earlier she had slipped too far into the void and this was some cruel illusion, it had happened before.  
"I'll stay as long as I have to. Don't enjoy the smell though. I don't think you can walk a straight line yet." What she thought to be his face cocked to the side. "We're not leaving you Anima. So I'll wait until you can walk. Or until you let me carry you." He waited again as if it was an offer, that she had another option. He sighed when she shook her head no. "I know you prefer towns to the woods, but the woods are where we're staying Anima."  
"You keep saying we." Anima's thoughts were still slowly coming together. It took all of her concentration not to vomit on the floor.  
"Getting sick might help." The face pointed out how obvious it must've been.  
"Don't like getting sick." She shook her head and immediately regretted it, bile shot it's way up to the hilt of her throat.  
"Well no one likes getting sick." Jaskier slowly came back into view. "But if anyone knows about potions and poison it's Geralt. Just away from me if you can." More fast slipping words came out at her.  
"We . . . Us. You me and Jaskier. You can keep the cleaver if you want." The Geralt like figure added. "How's that? You can have the cleaver if you let me carry you. If you feel the need to chop at my throat it's right there." He was standing, he was tall and broad and she had nowhere to go.  
"Geralt are you so sure that's a great idea?" Jaskier questioned.  
"Hmm." That was more a grunt of dismissal.  
"Ok." Anima relented. ' _Just till the spinning stops.'_

"You think you can ride on Roach?" He was being incredibly calm, almost unsettlingly calm as he placed her on her feet. "I only ask if you're going to chop at something, you don't attack her. Roach didn't let you down." The calm waivered, he was more angry, more upset.  
"I can walk." Anima would have less control if she was on the horse.  
"You can't. And that's not what I asked." He had for the most part stopped spinning, she could almost make out his features, he looked almost frustrated.  
"I . . ." And she tried to sprint, falling nearly immediately. Then it finally came, as she tried to lift herself from the ground her face bucked forward and emptied the contents of her stomach.  
"Anima?!" One hand hooked under her arm to lift her, the other pulled back the hair from her face.  
"Don't touch me!" She tried to sprint again but the arm hooked under her's did not let go. He did drop her hair. She could hear another heavy sigh behind her.  
"How's this. You ride Roach, I'll walk next to you. I'd like for you not to run off but if you feel you have to . . . that's fine." It wasn't a lie, just another omission. He'd let her run off, but he'd follow, he'd find her. He wouldn't be careless again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter just wasn't sure where to end


	4. bedroll blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You don't know what you've lost till it's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some good feels in here to offset the bad

"Can I help you off? You can-"  
"Right the cleaver. You can stop that though can't you." She glanced down at the hand that was clenching and releasing.  
"I won't." And when she didn't budge he added "I'll have you in my hands wouldn't be able to stop you."  
"Right." Anima didn't quite believe him, she knew what witcher reflexes were like, but she couldn't stay on Roach forever and if she tried to get herself off she would surely fall. "Fine." She watched as his tense shoulders dipped slightly. He was careful, again almost uncomfortably so. "I'm just messed up in the head. I'm not hurt." The illusion theory was fading and she was beginning to feel bad that Geralt had to repeatedly offer his head in exchange for permission to help her.  
"You've got bruises and . . . your wrists." His voice was both angry and sad as he carried her over to a clearing.

"Where are you going?" Once placed on her feet Anima watched as Geralt was walking away, shoulders while not tense, were turned in at an angle they normally didn't. "Geralt are you ok?"  
"Don't ask me that. And you don't have to keep calling me that. Going to start a fire. Here." He tossed a bedroll to her feet. "You should rest. I'll make something to eat. Are you hungry if-" He wasn't one to ramble but here he was wanting to do or say something to make up for his biggest mistake yet.  
"Geralt?"  
"Hmm?"  
"So that is your name." She stated as she inspected the bedroll. "This is mine, not yours." She knew it by the slight mildewy smell to it.  
"Hmm." He was lining up a circle to plant a fire in. "Are you cold? You can get closer. I'll . . . move." He was still angry, still sad and Anima wanted it to stop.  
"If you don't want me to call you by your name is there something you'd prefer? Is there a reason you put out my bedroll instead of yours?"  
"If you'd prefer mine you can have it." He went to Roach to pull out his own. "It's warmer. if you're cold I'll have a fire in a few-"  
"That's not what I meant. As I remember you hate my bedroll"  
"I . . ." His voice tensed as he pulled out his own, tossing it next to hers. Turning to start a fire. "I'll make do." He grumbled, he hadn't looked at her in minutes.  
"That's not what I meant either. You're being purposely dense" Anima let out an annoyed sigh. "Geralt I recognize you now-"  
"Stop calling me that." And the fire sparked alive.  
"It's your name! I'm sorry that I-"  
"Don't . . ." And he let out another leveling breath. "Don't be sorry and don't call me by my name. I'll wait till Jaskier gets here then I'll get us some food. Rest ok? I promise I won't leave." He wanted to promise he was here and he'd keep her safe but he couldn't could he?  
"What do you want me to call you?"  
"What everyone else does."  
"You hate that. I swore I wouldn't call you that again." She wouldn't say it wouldn't call him witcher.  
"I don't . . . I'm not going to share your bed roll. And I don't want you to call me by my name ok?" His hands grabbed into the dirt infront of him. ' _I don't deserve either of those things.'_

"They didn't have sex with me." Her voice was timid, a bit broken and that only dug at Geralt more.  
"I know." His head hung lower still, any closer to the flames and his skin may have blistered. "Even if they had. It wouldn't have made a difference." His voice lost all calm, it was tight and strained. He had made it worse. Made her think she was spoiled goods.  
"Ge-"  
"Don't."  
"Fine miserable brute by the fire. What made the difference. Sick of getting elbowed in the face? I'll admit I'll probably have a shit sleep tonight but I'd prefer if-"  
"It's not that." At this point he'd almost welcome an elbow or a punch, the burn from the cleaver wound wasn't distracting enough.

"This again? What is it?"  
"Hmm." He didn't know what to say, how to say it. That he felt he had failed her, hadn't protected her, she should be angry, the cleaver still clenched in her fist meant she was still scared. He should have been able to hold the monsters, the nightmares, the fear at bay. He had saved her, but that wasn't good enough, not to hear her say his name in the way that calmed him. He had let her down and he shouldn't let her continue to-  
"I still love you. You know that right?" She was so light, so unsmudgebly light and he didn't feel he deserved that.  
"You shouldn't. Just a witcher, just doing my job."  
"You don't mean that." She threw her bedroll at his back. _'That's dumbest sack of shit! ooooh I'm just a rightous witcher and I forgot until right the fuck now.'_ She let out a breath of anger. He didn't mean it, he wouldn't feel this way if he was just a witcher. "You've dealt with me way to long, put up with all my shit for years . . . years! You said you loved me. You promised Geralt You saved me Ge-"  
"I said stop it." He held his hands over his ears as if his name was cursed, causing him physical pain.  
"Everything . . . ok?" Jaskier finally found them, a cluttered ball if their possessions in his arms.  
"Jaskier say his name." Anima demanded in a huff.  
"What? Geralt?" And as he turned to the fire to see the white wolf, he was gone.

She was cold, endlessly emcompasingly cold as she tossed and turns frustrating in Geralt's bedroll, unable to get comfortable. _'Do the pebbles and twigs bother him?'_ She tried to remember Geralt moving to get comfortable but as far back as her memory took her he would just crumble in weary from the days travel. The only mild discomfort was more an impatience when she first got in at too far a distance for his liking before pulling her to his chest.  
"Anima there's food!" Jaskier called out to her.  
"Who cooked?" Anima sat up and the fact she didn't sound groggy caused Geralt to grumble.  
"Our good friend Geralt over here. I think he's trying to impress you." Jaskier smiled taking a stick with whatever unrecognizable meat Geralt had caught off the fire and bit in.  
"Thank you Ge-" Anima tried to have the most thankful reassuring smile she could muster.  
"Don't." He wanted it, so badly that sitting next to her made him ache. So he moved, not out of eyesight but at the very edge of camp.  
"That's new. What are you still feeling weird? I'm _me_. That's _Geralt_. You don't need to send him away he won't hurt you. He's not as mean and scary as-" Jaskier took an apprehensive bite.  
"It's not that. He just can't stand to be near me is all. Think trying to chop his head off might've spooked him. Still there?" She wouldn't use his name, if it kept sending him away, but she wouldn't call him witcher either.

He knew what she was asking for. When he said 'I'm here.' It was his way of saying he loved her, that he wouldn't leave her.  
"Here." He gave her a half measure. He knew he was saying it because a part of him that should know better still wanted to state how he selfishly loved her. His rational brain said it because he hoped that she, if nothing else, felt safe in the woods she hated with a witcher around.

He didn't move from the corner of the camp not until the fire was long out. Till he was sure they were both sleeping. Only then did he move. Grabbing some salve and bandages from his bag. Moving quietly as he could he crouched by Anima, slowly pulling out her arm, staring at the jagged cuts and deep scrapes at her wrists. He bit back a snarl dotting bit of salve, rubbing soothingly at her wrist, smiling slightly as he saw her tense face relax. He wrapped the first wrist then attempted to grab her other. "Ahhh!" It was bone chilling, blood curdling, absolute terror. He clamped a hand over her mouth.  
"It's me it's just me." He watched as tears welled in her eyes before nodding slightly. He removed his hand, knuckles betraying him, wiping away tears, brushing against the cheek that was puffing slightly from earlier strikes.  
"You're here?" She was nearly panting.  
"I'm here . . . I'm sorry." He stood and began to walk away.  
"Stay with me?" Her voice called out to him as always, chisseled at his stony heart.  
"I can't." He found his previous post.  
"You can. You just won't." She turned her back to him. It hurt, he had grown more than accustomed to laying next to her, he remembered the last time he had tried to sleep without her.

\--Month or so back--  
He had returned to camp late, all that was left of the fire was the smell of cooking ash. Jaskier was snoring heartedly and Anima was contorted in a way he couldn't imagine to be comfortable but all the same the bedroll rose and fell to the rythm of her breathing. "Hmm." Part of him had wished either of them would still be up, he had taken a Maribor forest potion and even speaking idly about nothing with Jaskier would have distracted him from the twitching under his skin deep in his muscles. He'd survive though, just a minor unpleasantry. After setting down his bags and removing his armor, ignoring the shake in his hands he laid down, wedging spasming arms behind his head and tried to sleep.

His body couldn't stop moving and his mind could not stop fighting. As he dreamed it was of duels, not those he had entered of his own chosing but one's of which his hands had been forced. Of Brehen and Renfri, in this warped moment attacking him both at once. He was forced to parry again and again and again, his stamina was not fleeting but he didn't want this fight, he wanted to find another way, he wanted it to end.  
"Geralt?" And he heard Anima, he couldn't see her but he could hear her. What if they found her? Used her against him? They both had a penchant for hostages. He had to get on the offensive before that happened. It was hard with parrying both swords and words, blades and moral quandaries he wanted everything still. His chest was heaving, his head splitting at the echoing clang of steel and warped far off words from his past. "Geralt!" His eyes shot open and he lunged forward a hand wrapped around a throat, his teeth fully bared.

"Anima." He let go quickly but not fast enough, he caught it the fear in her eyes. "I'm . . ." He was catching his breath, his hands still shaky as the twitched in pain against the earth. "Sorry I'll-"  
"Look at me Geralt." Anima had a bit of a cough to her voice but her tone was calm and confident.  
"Hmm?" Even his eyes were twitchy and scattering.  
"Focus. Look at me and nothing else ok?" There was more force to this request. Anima had promised not to use her powers on him, not to connect her heartbeat to his, but she had other less other worldly ways to influence one's emotions.  
"Hmm." He blinked a handful of extra times then tried, did his best to not let his eyes trail from her. Minutes had stretetched but his eyes held with tenacity, scrutiny. If he could focus on the softness of her, the glow of her, his eyes grew less restless.  
"Close your eyes Geralt."  
"Anima just-"  
"You need to blink. Close your eyes Geralt please." And he did, once his focus left from his eyes he could follow on the trail of her gentle airy breaths. "Good. Ahead of me are you? Just listen to me Geralt."  
"Hmm." And he was he really was, every slow breath in every slow breath out, the even nearly pleasant rythm of her heartbeat. "Are you listening Geralt?" There was almost a humor in her voice.  
"Yes Anima, I'm listening. What am I listening for?" There was no humor in his voice it was still edged and riled.  
"You can't listen if you're talking shhh." And it was soothing, cooling the heat in his head. Minutes went on and on again, just listening. "Geralt?"  
"Hmm?"  
"What do you smell?"  
"Smell?"  
"Yeah. Focus, just focus on what you smell."  
"Hmm." He wanted to keep listening but he with a bit of slow turning cogs focused his energy of his sense of smell, he wasn't looking forward to this. "Ash and dirt, moss, the dumping ground, blood, the Zegul." His adrenalin was surging again.  
"You're here, with me, not there with the zegul. What do you smell?"  
"Hmm." He tried to settle his brain. "Cracking tea leaves and dried fruit." He heard her chuckle and he allowed himself to smile with her.  
"Yeah? Is that what I smell like?" He had never told her that before. He just nodded lazily, keeping his nose trained on her. "Are you sure?" He felt her neck run up and down across his nose drowning him in it.  
"I'm sure." His voice was slowly losing it's edge. He felt her lips press softly against his, he went to follow her lead but she pulled back.  
"Do I taste like tea leaves."  
"I don't know I'll have to focus won't I?" It was less a necessity now, less grounding it was more of a game.  
"I suppose you will." And she was montionless, still for him as he kissed her, lips cheeks, neck anything that held his focus. She didn't make any mention of the slight spasms from rough and hungry to soft and trailing. "So? What do you taste Geralt?"  
"Warmth."  
"That's not exactly a taste. That's more of a touch sense. You really do love skipping ahead don't you?"  
"I'm impatient." It had gone from a game to foreplay, and Geralt always was a bit impatient when it came to that, he would always try but he had to be in quite the mood for it to indulge and linger there.  
"Fine then skip ahead Geralt, focus on what you feel." The twitch had all but left his hands as he reached out, just grazing testing touches at first along the side of her face, tracing her spine, letting his nose nuzzle again up her neck. Hands focused with more purpose, detailing and digging in at every new curve and angle. He kissed her again pulling some of that warmth he had noted on earlier from a wet breath of hers. He heard it, that tell tale sharp inhale, it brought him reassurance, this was not just for him any longer, she wanted too. He could smell it, that want, his touch was slowly coaxing it out of her. He let his eyes open for a second, to look at her again, her cheeks were flushed just for him, she was blooming, just for his attention. "Cheating." Her voice was hanging against the urge to be more desperate. His hand leafed through her hair, the twitch was gone as he tugged slightly, once he heard the keening groan, all desire to focus shifted gears, foreplay had lost all it's appeal. He in the quietest move or tackle depending on how you looked at it returned them to his bedroll. And he focused, all his senses, all his actions, all his adrenalin on feeling every bit of her, making sure she felt every bit of him. When there was nothing left to feel, there was nothing left to do but sleep.

\--Present--

' _I want to Anima. I just . . . I can't mess up again. I can't lose you.'_ The thought of not being able to feel any of those sensations again gutted him to his very core.


	5. blood and bandages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> treating some wounds leaving other wounds to fester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fixed some of the issues with previous chapters

It bothered him just the way she knew it would. He knew what she was doing, leaving the right wrist he hadn't bandaged just hanging loose and untreated at her side the attached hand holding onto the cleaver. "You can ride." He offered, they were moving slower than usual. He wanted to offer everything, anything, to lift her mood, to keep her out of her head, anything except what she was asking for. "I'll get off."  
"No thank you." She wasn't even looking at him. That should have been a good sign, but pushing her away and yet keeping her so close was an awkward pain even Kaer Morhen hadn't prepared him for. Yet he didn't see any other solution. He had been careless and cocky to keep them there and she, they got hurt, that was a fact. They deserved better than that, another fact. She deserved someone who would always protect her, always put her first, fact. He couldn't ALWAYS do that, fact. He couldn't bear nor believe that anyone was deserving, was able to protect her, care for her, love her like he did and wanted to. That was the problem. Normally he had Anima to help him filter through his emotions, keeping her at arms length kept him drowning in dark water. _'That's the worst kind of water.'_ He could almost hear her say.  
"Geralt I'll take the ride if you're offering?" And the slice that went through the air when Jaskier called the Witcher by name and he didn't flich was nearly audible. Anima stomped forward, long past Jaskier and angrily past Roach. "Did I say something?" Jaskier felt this to be a noxious mix of the couple's normal brooding and the bickering as of late. "She did turn down the ride didn't she?" Jaskier watched as Geralt trotted forward. "You know I got banged up too, probably worse than Anima!"  
"It's not the same and you know it."  
"Why cause she's a girl and she can't take care of herself? She's holding a damn meat cleaver in her hand Geralt I think she-"  
"If HE won't give you a ride I can try and piggy back you to the next campsite." Anima refused to be talked about like she wasn't there.  
"I think it would be in poor taste for me to ride you through the woods."  
"What cause I'm a girl and I can't take it?" And Anima chuckled, patting her shoulders and Jaskier chuckled, and Geralt scowled.  
"Anima?" He stated, but she was busy laughing about some old anecdote that Jaskier hardly remembered. It made him wince when she stopped to acknowledge him.  
"Yes?"  
"Hmm." He wanted to say she didn't have to put on a brave face, she didn't have to hide that she was hurting, but who was he now to say it?  
"Someone, somewhere said: Always laugh when you can, it is cheap medicine." She smiled at him, smiled at him like he hadn't failed her, like yesterday was just the same as the day before it.  
"Witchers don't laugh." He slowed nearly to the point it was redundent to be on a horse.  
"I've seen you crack a smile Geralt. I know it's in there somewhere." And Jaskier was playing along too, as if he didn't mind the limp in his stride, that his lip had been busted and here was the witcher, supposedly their witcher, with only a cut from a blade he reached out and grabbed. This made no sense.  
"Stop it Jaskier." He barely sighed, not that they could have heard it up ahead, not with all that laughter. The day went on and their distance only grew longer.

"Hey!" Anima was at another campsite, that was in no way on her shitty map, calling out to a man she knew by name yet couldn't say it. She would have gone down to the river side with Jaskier but she wasn't up to bathe just yet.  
"What?" Geralt had little energy, little patience, just so little of so much.  
"Do you have anymore of those bandages lying around?" And this got his attention just the slightest, he went from sitting crouched in his spot banished from the fire and went and pulled out some salve and bandages. Maybe now, maybe this small offering would apease the nagging pit he felt growing. Anima took them, observing them slightly for a moment before smiling up at him. "Let me see your hand."  
"It's fine. I heal-"  
"Fast yes we all know what you are. Trade you?"  
"Huh?" This atleast stopped his retreat.  
"Let me do yours." She pointed at Geralt's hand. "And you can do mine." She held up her wrist, wriggling her fingers in a wave as if he had forgotten.  
"You don't know how to bandage yourself?"  
"We're not on a first name basis. So how would you know what I can and cannot do."  
"Anima I-"  
"That's not fair. If I can't use your name you can't use mine." Anima was nothing if not good at debating, not letting a breath come out before biting back.  
"Hmm." With a hesitant shrug he sat next to her, holding out his palm.  
"See was that so unbearable? I even put the hatchet away." She nodded over at her bag. That did make him feel slightly better, it put his reasoning mind to ease, she felt safe in his presence. She made sure to clean the cut best she could, there was dirt in that dried blood. _'Why hasn't he taken care of this?_ ' It was unlike him to just out and out ignore an injury. "I feel bad . . ." She knew if she said sorry he'd curl back in some awful ball of self loathing and frustration. "About . . . doing this." She felt his fingers jerk as she slowly applied the salve. His eyes clenched shut, neither action in pain just in reaction to her touch. "You were only trying to help me and-" She kept her voice quiet and even as if the white wolf was scared of her.  
"What should I call you then?" He shook his head in a fools attempt to try and not allow himself any relief, not from her and not from the salve.  
"Well you could call me what everyone called me." Still quiet, still even.  
"Animal?" Eyes shut harder in annoyance, his nose wrinkled and his head stuffed down in anger. ' _No not that she hates that.'_  
"That'll do. Or if that's too close to my name. You can call me . . . ghoul." The shrugged chuckle caused his eyelids to pry open. She was nearly done wrapping his hand.  
"Ghoul?" He had never heard that one before.  
"That moniker took later. One asshole gets in a laugh and then one patron after another starts calling for you like that from cross the bar. They call you that and then you go and . . . well you know how that act ends. I mean I get it cause of the eyes you know?" Her voice was quieter than it had been, but the evenness was gone, it was pitchy high and low between bitter and aloof. His freshly patched hand betrayed him just like it always did. Tracing under her eyes with his thumb, if he was expecting tears they weren't there. They were startling, her eyes, if you didn't look close enough you couldn't tell where the white ended and the iris began, the difference was minuscule. Geralt was always looking close enough, he could see the shades in her.  
"I won't call you that." He didn't pull away when her face pushed it's way into his palm, letting it rest there, letting her rest there. Her eyes shut as if she could fall asleep right in his hold and he wouldn't have moved, not for anything.  
"I know." She nodded, her voice sounder tender and smooth, no bitterness left. "Why would you have me do the same?"  
"I-" He didn't have an answer for her, he rarely did. "Let me see your wrist." He waited patiently for her face to lull back, pulling her fist into his eyeline. _'That's why.'_  
"Whose blood is on your armor?" She couldn't remain quiet, couldn't let Geralt box off in this moment of closeness.  
"Huh?"  
"When I woke up this morning there was blood on your armor that wasn't there before. Sure you hardly noticed but-"  
"It's not my blood." It was curt, warning her to not pry further. Just like the night prior he slowly rubbed the salve across her wrist. He couldn't help but let his thumb slide up in down it's center in a way he knew would relax her. He could almost hear it, as calm washed over her face, almost hear her say his name.

"Right." It was soft and almost sleepy. "You should clean it." She rested her forehead on his shoulder, taking deep breaths of him.  
"Hmm?" He tried to focus on bandaging her wrist, he needed to get away before he got too comfortable.  
"Wash your armor, get the blood off it. I don't like looking at it." She groaned sadly as she broke her contact from him to catch his eyes. Just as Geralt had found a quest of convincing her to stay with him, she was finding a quest in bring him back to her, not letting him pull away for what he may or may not have believed to be the greater good. Geralt had done so by convincing her that the world might be new but they weren't, the three of them were same as always. Geralt was not a man easily dissuaded from his opinions so Anima had to use a different tactic. Something that fed in to his practical need to be useful and his primal need to be wanted. It would have to be small little requests like these, tasks he could complete and feel like he had earned any of the praise she wanted to lavish him in.  
"I can do that." He nodded as he tied off the bandage. "Now?" He saw the expecting look in her eyes.  
"Why not now?"  
"You'd be alone in camp."  
"I've been alone in camp before, and with you standing in the shadows I'm basically alone in camp now. I'll be fine. If I need you I'll call for you ok?"

"Oh hey Geralt! Where's Anima?" Jaskier was bobbing lazily on his back floating on the current.  
"Back at camp."  
"What is she dead?"  
"Huh?" Geralt's armor dropped to the ground with a thud.  
"I expected you to hover over her for months slicing through any mayfly that made the mistake of landing on her. Good on you to give her some space."  
"Hmm."  
"Wait whose blood is that? Has that been on there all day?" Jaskier glanced over as Geralt washed aggressively at the shoulders of his armor.  
"Why does everyone keep asking that?" Geralt growled at a spot in the stitches that wouldn't clear.  
"Well I'm no healer but blood normally is in something before you know . . . it's out of them. Makes one inquisitive when you see it . . . you know-"  
"It's not my blood."  
"So you keep saying." Jaskier did know when not to pry. "Can I ask you a question?"  
"If I say no." Geralt sighed appreciatively as the stitch began to lighten. "Will it stop you?"  
"You never know."  
"No."  
"What's with the whole not using your name thing?" When Geralt looked up annoyed Jaskier tailed the question. "Now you know."  
"Hmm. I like the way it sounds . . . when she says my name." He resumed the angry scrubbing, holding it up for spots he'd missed and scrubbed again.  
"And that's a bad thing because?"  
"Because . . ."  
"You know she doesn't blame you for what happened right?"  
"She should."  
"You can see in the dark not the future Geralt."  
"I knew that place was unsafe, knew what those men were after and I left you two there anyway. I should have-" And Geralt stood, left his armor at the shore and turned around.  
"Geralt? No, no I'll finish up here. Don't over exert yourself. In fact I'll make dinner tonight. Need any other clothes laundered Geralt? . . . Geralt? And I am talking to myself. It always ends up with me alone . . . you know what their loss why waste my linguistic skills on those that don't appreciate it. Right? I'm right." He dunked his head back under water.

Geralt had returned to camp after hearing a shout, and he saw it blood. _'Not Anima's a . . . wolf?'_ But then where was she? He glanced from side to side and as all other senses had already noticed, she wasn't there. _'Follow the blood.'_ He had left his armor behind but wouldn't wouldn't make the same mistake with the swords he grabbed before following the trail.

"The hell are you doing?" It was a bit worrisome that she didn't notice him coming up behind her.  
"You said once." She was struggling to pull the canine with one arm, her other hand holding a still dripping meat cleaver. "That blood attracts bears and wolves and . . ."  
"Here." He lifted up the wolf and carried it while walking beside her.  
"And you know how I feel about bears and wolves and-"  
"You don't like the woods. Yet you pulled a bleeding animal into the trees? Why didn't you call out for me like you said you would?"  
"Who says I didn't and you just didn't hear?" Anima chuckled.  
"Hmm." Geralt snorted at the mear mention that something within earshot was uttered and it had escaped him. "Why?" Did she worry it'd happen again, that he'd be just a bit too late again.  
"I didn't know if I called your name that you'd come." She shrugged.  
"You'd rather get eaten by a wolf than call me witcher?" It didn't endear him, it angered him. _'That's foolish. She could have gotten hurt. Where's the self preservation?'_  
"I'd rather neither if I'm being honest. But if those are my only two options . . . look at it from my perspective. What if the last thing you heard from me was me calling you that?"  
"Hmm." Geralt placed down the carcass. He watched her dry her cleaver against the fur. That was oddly more endearing. "I would have come . . . in time. Either way." They turned around to head back to camp.  
"I know. It's the principle I suppose."  
"Principle doesn't keep you alive." He scoffed.  
"Mine don't but your's aught to?"  
"Is there nothing you won't fight me on?" He groaned as the camp came in sight.  
"I won't call you that and won't let you fall back into thinking their path is all that makes you. If that means we fight, so be it. Just hope it's not a sword fight." She scrunched her face in the reflection of the cleaver.  
"It's dull."  
"Huh?"  
"The blade. It was dull before." He glanced down at his bandaged hand. "Only will get duller."  
"Do you think a blacksmith will sharpen it if I ask?"  
"Hmm." At first he felt insulted that she felt the need to carry a weapon, she had once said he was weapon enough. But he checked his ego, while he hoped she wouldn't need it, a meat cleaver did send just the right message to would be bandits or hooligans atleast.  
"Hey Jaskier!" Anima smiled warmly as they renetered the safety of the firelight's reach. Smiled like she hadn't actively decided not to call on her witcher and instead was content defending herself with a dull butcher's blade.


	6. Cats and Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is Geralt better or worse than other witchers

"-you met Geralt and I?" Jaskier had been talking but Anima had been nodding off in her palm.  
"What?"  
"I swear, just talking to myself. I was asking if you had met Witchers before you met us. As I recall you seemed thoroughly unimpressed with Geralt when you first met him. We were old news the second we got there."  
"And this question came from?" She was delaying explaining that everyone was old news to her when they had met. She knew all the comings and goings, all the feelings there were too have, every day and every person were just redundancies with different features. She had been going through the motions endlessly and effortlessly for years by the time they showed up. She knew that pessimistic statement was not what Jaskier was looking for so she waited on another cue.  
"I was asking Geralt if he took offense that you killed a wolf and-"  
"Ah." Anima yawned. "School of the wolf. I didn't ask if there was any familial relation. As far as I've been told witchers aren't werepeople'"  
"You should sleep." Geralt had again resigned himself to the edge of camp and his eyes were stuck on her shoulders, going lax as she dipped and taught when she woke back up.  
"Nope." She didn't want to sleep, she had gotten so unused to laying alone. "Me and Jaskier are having a grand conversation about . . ."  
"HAVE YOU MET OTHER WITCHERS?" Jaskier gave the loudest sigh his bard lungs could carry.  
"No need to shout. Um yeah years and years ago. None from up north I don't think. I mean maybe, who knows with them. The wandering ones." Anima tried to think back, it was when she was much younger when the 'caravan' came through.  
"Don't all witcher's wander?" Jaskier had never known Geralt to just check in and kick back anywhere, he had visited Kaer Morhen during especially hard winters but he hadn't done that in years.  
"They were different."  
"She's talking about that cats." Geralt sneered, Brehen came to mind but he wasn't particularly fond of any of the assassins under the guise of witchers.  
"Yeah. Jugglers and Tumblers on wheels those ones." She yawned. "Hissing and scratching up the place."  
"Go to sleep Anima. Don't waste any time thinking on them." She was tired, too tired but she was afraid to sleep and Geralt was quick to place that blame squarely on himself. "I'll-"  
"Did they kill vampires too? Just like Geralt?" Jaskier could sense it, hell anyone within a ten mile radius could sense the guilt oozing from the witcher's pores and the bard aimed to do something about it. He was trying to make a point all his own.  
"Er some, some not . . . they were more do what you like types. Some liked killing monsters, some preferred ending petty nobel squabbles. Some just liked bar fights. They were in Lyria just long enough not to be welcomed back in Lyria. Why do you ask? He hasn't told you all about the other witchers?"  
"Geralt doesn't feel it pressing to tell me shit. But that's not why I ask. If Thom had paid one of the cats to kill those vampires instead of Geralt they would have wouldn't they?"  
"Sure if they took the contract I guess. That's how I understand it to work." Anima glanced over her shroulder to Geralt who gave a slight shrug of affirmation.  
"There was a time when there was enough to go around, witchers and contracts alike."  
"Same with the Bruxa?"  
"Jaskier what are you getting on about?" Anima wasn't following.  
"And when the scoia took you, or the voyanoi with Thill. If a cat had been there instead of Geralt they could have done the same job right? You've met Witchers before Geralt that could do what he does."  
"I . . .sort of. . .yes. There were reasons they wore out their welcome but in a pinch any Witcher within barking distance with enough incentive could do the monster hunting that he did I guess but-"  
"If you were back in that basement-"  
"Jaskier, enough." Geralt stood from the his corner.  
"And your choice was any Witcher you've ever met before, cat wolf whatever, or Geralt. Which would you chose?"  
"That's enough Jaskier!" Geralt was standing between Jaskier and Anima, a wall to put a break to the interrogation. He didn't want her to answer, didn't want the only answer he knew her to have, he'd hear it and enough of himself would believe it.  
"Why? Any witcher worth his swords could have taken care of those men. Which of them would have taken care of-"  
"Which one of them would have brought two defensless people into that fucking town in the first place!"  
"If you didn't take me with you I would have never forgiven you. Remember? If I'm being honest this talking about me like I'm not here bull is getting real old." Anima didn't often yell and this was no exception, as tempers flared, she staid cool, resigned and even. "You gave us a choice to hang behind. We decided to go with you. You let people make their own choices, you're strong with your opinions, but you don't force your will onto others. I was in that basement because **I** went into that town, **I** followed Jaskier out of the Inn, **I** stretched myself too thin trying to get free. I'm not defenseless. We all made choices you know? Sometimes choices don't pan out the way you'd like. I'd make most of those same choices if given the chance."  
"Hmm." Strong in his opinions was right, Geralt was not swayed.  
"Knowing what's happened . . . lately. Do you wish I'd chose to stay in Lyria?"  
"I knew a woman like you before, not the same, but similar to you. It didn't end well for her. There are days I wish you never chose me at all." And that was a fact, a beginning middling, ending fact.

Eventually bed rolls laid out but sleep was still hard to come by. "You can ask you know?" Anima just could not get comfortable and Geralt's heated gaze at her back was not helping.  
"You should be sleeping. You need to-"  
"Sit a little closer then? I know you won't share **your** bedroll with me but could you just sit a bit closer? Please?" She turned to meet his eyes, she looked so tired.  
"Hmm." He could feel the want growing, his ears asking why it'd been so long since they've heard it. Trying to trick him into doing anything to get it back. He was by this point imagining her call his name at the end of sentences. He sat up with a grumble and moved closer to her. "Better?"  
"I . . . good enough." She gave a little smile, she seemed at least to settle, no more tossing and turning that had kept his eyes on her in the first place. "So?"  
"Somethings never change." It was always sos with her, egging conversation when Geralt was content with silence.  
"What were you going to not ask me and stew over into the morning?"  
"I didn't know you had met other witchers before me."  
"Not exactly a question." Anima rolled her eyes.  
"That cats aren't known for their manners."  
"Witchers in general aren't known for their manners." Some things did change, Geralt got on her for dancing around topics but she must've been rubbing off on him. This wasn't about the cats.  
"You know what I mean." The Witchers from the school of the cat had a tendency to be overly agressive, bordering on sadistic. If that had been her first interaction with witchers why had she so easily given Geralt the time of day?  
"I do."  
"Yet Jaskier was right, you didn't even seem slightly phased by me showing up there."  
"I was probably thinking the same thing you were when you were offered a barmaid. ' _oh another one.'_ " She laid on her back the sound of his voice was lulling her towards the sleep she had been missing out on. "Like you said, you've met others . . . similar to me. Was she another barmaid?"  
"A princess." And Geralt noticed, he always noticed that this was more a bed time story to her than anything else, which both bothered him and didn't in the same breath. It was a story he didn't like telling but it was less unbearable if she was only half listening, and he was sure at least partially that was a deliberate action on Anima's part. His hand betrayed him because it always did, fixing some hair behind her ears, listening harder than nessicary to catch little satisfied sighs.  
"So that'a not where our similarities lie do they?"  
"Did they. She's dead Anima. I killed her." He waited for her eyes to jolt open in a fright, in a realization that he was just as ruthless as the cats. The jolt never came, she frowned slightly, but in no more than a somber acknowledgement.  
"Another difference. Less you came over here to kill me? And here Thill thought I had pulled the longest con on her." Anima would not be goaded, she was much too tired for that.  
"That's why they call me-"  
"No. That's why you think yourself the Butcher of Blavikin." Her eyes shut, almost as a statment she wouldn't entertain his notion.  
"I don't know what stories you've heard but-"  
"I've heard plenty of stories over the years. Many a princess or even a barmaid whose made a name for herself have fallen at a witcher's blade. Hell those cats would take down a city block if it suited them, and it has. But only one Butcher."  
"Then why doom yourself Anima? With all the stories you'd heard, the things you've seen-" Why had she been, why was she continuing to, put herself in danger? What about him was worth the risk? Especially now, after he made such a grand oversight, there surely had to be an end to her trust and good faith.  
"I could see you, with these ghoulish eyes of mine, parts you weren't showing and I knew you were different. You could smell my blood, with that superior sniffer of yours, knew I was different yet still treated me as a person. And that was . . . nice. In a world full of the same disapointments day after day. It was a breath of fresh air that something was new, something was different. What a pleasant little surprise you were, I was willing to throw some caution to the wind, for anything different." He could hear it, he was imagining it again. _'For you Geralt.'_ He let his own eyes close for just a second, let out a sigh all his own. "Haven't been called that in a while huh?"  
"Hmm?" His eyes were still closed, he could still hear it, live in that space for as long as he kept his eyes closed.  
"Little." She did it again leaned into his hand running her face along it, laying a soft kiss at his palm.  
"No."  
"I Suppose not. Suppose you aren't anymore." It was both sides speaking for speakings sake. She knew he wasn't really listening to her words just listening for the facts that she was talking at all, letting himself slip into the tone.  
"I'm sorry." He knew she'd be asleep soon, he'd continue to live in this space till she nodded off.  
"Wasn't your fault." She grabbed his hand nestling on top of it like a pillow. "You can have it back in a minute ok?"  
"Hmm." He was losing his resolve, he needed it back. "Not just sorry for that."  
"What are you sorry for? The world? Your shoulders are broad but not that broad." She smirked, fingers tracing up his arm all the way up to one of the aforementioned shoulders.  
"The witchers, you got off on the wrong foot with the wolves and before that- "  
"So your world then? Cats didn't like me much either, I've noticed Witchers tend not to like what they can't make sense of."  
"Hmm." She wasn't wrong, no matter under what tutilage, what schools, Witcher's worked best with absolutes and Anima was a quandary like nothing else.  
"Like I said-" She lifted her head to allow him to pull his hand back, and he did, running his thumb cross the warmth she left there. "What a pleasant little surprise you were. Continue to be. Worth more than a little peril. Some peril does one good right?"  
"Hmm." He did not look at peril so whistfuly, he knew she didn't either, she was trying to calm him, comfort him and he was allowing it to work, just for a moment, just in this space before sleep.  
"You'll sit here a little while longer?"  
"When it's convenient to you I can sit in one place in the dark?"  
"Fine do what you want." She gave a mock annoyed shrug and went to turn her back to him again but he held her shoulder down.  
"I want you to go to sleep. I'll stay."

Steaks, knives, cleavers, all hanging and clanging against each other in the room where she was held. "Geralt? Jaskier?" They had come for her right? She wouldn't be fed to the dogs would she? The sound of metal on whetstone grew louder and louder, thumping in her ears. It was so loud, so deafening she went to pull her hands over her ears but she couldn't, she couldn't move at all. ' _Your power is useless when you're alone. You're not safe alone. Travel in packs or not at all.'_ She couldn't do anything, not a damn thing.

"Anima." Jaskier shook her awake. He felt an odd pain in his chest. "Anima what are you-"  
"Let him go Anima!" Geralt stood with urgency and dropped her previously dull cleaver in her lap. "Here." She lifted it, inspected and then looked back up at Geralt. "Free of charge this time." Another small task that allowed him to accept her small smile guilt free.  
"You know she's going to lob your head off with that one day?" Jaskier caught his breath, he very much did not like the way it felt to have one's heart literally possessed, he was more a fan of the hypothetical, but that was his preferance with most things.  
"And ruin all his hard work, nah that neck of his would probably just bend the steel." Anima smirked and finally stood.  
"Was it the same or different?" Geralt was eyeing her with heavier concern than before. These nightmares were getting worse, she wasn't just striking out physically anymore she was using her ability now.  
"Same, more of the same. So how far till we get where we're going?" She didn't want to be left behind, left alone, it wasn't safe, she wasn't safe and she'd push everything down, be whoever she needed to be to not become a liability left behind.  
"Anima if something's wrong I need to-" He could see it in her eyes she was, even now, even fully awake, haunted by something.  
"Oh I know what's wrong. I know what's got you so grumpy lately." Jaskier loved knowing something of anything.  
"So help any god you pray to Jaskier if you say it's because I haven't had sex I'll rip your soul straight through your nose." Anima stated with a deadpan sincerity as she began to pack up her things.  
"No. Well maybe. . . mostly no?"  
"What is it Jaskier?" Anima pinched at the bridge of her nose.  
"We've been out on the sticks too long. You miss the tavern. I saw you eyeing up the bar in the last town. I mean it's better that we didn't but you're itching to have a good time in a bad place."  
"What I want to do is find whatever it is that's taken the mind out of that hell hole we just left. We've done nothing for days, the brew can wait."  
"We didn't stock up on any supplies and some of we did have got looted because neither of you felt the need to close the door behind you." It was an excuse but it did hold with some of Geralt's genuine annoyance.  
"I was bewitched Anima was just being careless." Jaskier tossed the blame with reckless abandon.  
"Care. . . We don't need to detour. I'm fine. I know you you think being in taverns has some mystical healing power for me but-"  
"Hmm." It baffled Geralt that she was the only person that didn't fully give that credence. He had times dates and witnesses to prove as such. "These people might've seen the women, might be more capable of explaining what we're looking at. I know where we're going but not why." She could push back all she liked, Geralt could always push harder.  
"Promise me we're not just stopping to fix me."  
"If it could fix you we would stop for just that. It won't fix you and yet we will stop." Geralt skirted the fact that it was true they could travel another full day or so following the trail, but this made more sense to him.  
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth Anima beers and beds what's better than that?" Jaskier was used to Anima being much more inclined to go with the flow, even he was catching on to the subtle changes in her.  
"Promise you won't leave me there." Her gaze held hard on Geralt.  
"What?"  
"I said promise me you won't leave me there. I mean it this time, if you leave me there I will never, ever forgive you." Their reservations when it came to being wanted or needed were nearly polar opposite but met at the same bank. Geralt was who he was and wasn't able nor did he see it fit for his survival to change, he was unequivocally the best for whatever task he took, even if that left him ostracized from most of society. Despite his specialized skill set the people who wanted or needed him as he was were either few or fleeting. Despite eveything, despite even his own protests he desperately clung to and was equally desperate not to lose those few that did want him through all sorts of weather. Anima had no qualms about changing, she could be whatever or whoever neccessary to meet a want or need, that was her skill set. The people who wanted or needed her were greater and perhaps less fleeting but she had been left before, time and time again. She had been less shy and even less particular than Geralt about letting people in and when those people left it hurt, she was hurt, and just another degree removed from who she had been before. She did not want to be left again, she had to try harder, hold to them harder.  
"Anima we won't leave you there." And they made quick work of the distance to the nearest town.

"Witcher if you're here to a harbor a woman we've got no room. For sleepwalkers or otherwise." They were what was could be losely stated as greeted by what could loosely be stated as a gaurd while entering the town. And while his sentament was less than warm and fuzzy, it did bring the solace that this town wouldn't be a repeat of the last.  
"Sleep walking? Like Jaskier." Anima noted.  
"Least this one talks. She still can't stay. We've got too many hiding out here as it is."  
"We don't plan on staying. Can you show us the sleep walkers?" Geralt much to his lamenting had missed out on whatever 'bewitchment' Jaskier had been under, it would clear some things up if he could see it with his own eyes.  
"Most've passed. Won't eat or drink, just waste away. Lann I believe's still got one or two tied down in his cellar. Lives four houses down the road."

The sound was grinding at Geralt's ears, he could barely focus on Lann's words, and it was not as if they weren't important informative words. These two women were his sisters and lived in the town that the travelers were coming from. He found them wondering in the woods, covered in scrapes, still in their night clothes, they were aware and conscious but they kept going on and on about loved ones they had to get too. They'd over the days lost the energy to talk but they were still trying to go . . . somewhere. Lann had to keep them down in the cellar or they'd crawl out even if their legs weren't strong enough to carry them. It also wasn't that Geralt wasn't a good listener, if anything he waa obnoxiously good at listening. It was just that sound, the sound of rope chafing roughly against skin it was all he could hear, watching the two women writhe slowly the image faded to that of Anima's wilding bucking against bounds to get free, her tied fists slamming into his back. These women's eyes lacked focus, so had Anima's, her frantic eyes had no purchase but were convinced she was about to die. He was here and there and it was leaving him tuning out here, cursing himself for not being there.

  
"But Jaskier wasn't asleep when it it happened, at least not a first. You were fully dressed." Anima answered the question asked of Geralt who was lost in some other mental space. "So no we haven't seen this . . . exactly."  
"Who says I wasn't asleep?" Jaskier shook his head, it had been just about day break he was nearly certain he wouldn't have been awake at that time, it simply wasn't in his nature.  
"Like I said you were fully dressed."  
"After years of being woken up in the middle of the night. Sometimes being dragged straight from my bed. It's gone from a bad habit to a time saver that from time to time I sleep doublet and all."  
"Shoes? Monster how do you sleep with . . . nevermind. Jaskier I need to attatch to you again I need to see something."  
"Attatch to Geralt, I don't like you nestling in my souly bits." Jaskier cringed, pacing back from her. Magic and monsters made for great songs but it didn't mean he had to welcome them to his skin and bone.  
"I can't alright? It'll be quick I promise. Would it sweeten the deal if I let you pick an emotion to feel?"  
"I er . . . fine, then I demand nothing short of euphoria."  
"Euphoria not ecstasy? You really have grown bard." Anima smirked, trying her best to be as delicate and nonabrasive in her synching of her heartbeat along side his.  
"Wait was that an option?" And Jaskier felt it, a warm growing feeling of serendipity, it only took a moment or so till he couldn't hold back a nearly crazed laugh of appeasement.  
"Shhh." And the world whited out, looking down she saw it, a different color, her color but it was the same, a latch, a teather, linking her and Jaskier. So what was doing this, who was doing this was someone like her. Her hunch confirmed she let him go.  
"Wait." Jaskier was riding the wave down. "You can feel like that all the time? If you wanted to?"  
"Yes." Anima walked over to one of the women shuffling and squirming on the floor, only accidentally hitting a few barrels on her way there, the world still white. "I think I can fix them."  
"Then why wouldn't you. Why be mad or sad or anything less than . . . that." Jaskier was feeling cold at the lack of euphoria, and baffled that Anima was chose any of the emotions she flew from if she had complete control.

"Shhh." She focused for it again, on the girl's weak heartbeat and the bruise purple teather she had seen on Jaskier during his stupor. She reached out to pull it off, and it recoiled, released just as last time, but instead of disappearing it peirced at her, dug it's tendrils into her pulse.

"Geralt?!" Jaskier feverishly tapped at the Witcher's shoulder.  
"Hmm?" He was finally rerooted in the present, but the present wasn't any less dark. "Anima?" He saw her crashed down on her knees, nails digging at the bandages on her wrist. Her jaw clenched, her muscles tensed, she was fighting something. "What the hell happened? Anima?" He always had a hard time reaching her when she was in such a state.  
"Lann? I can . . . it stopped." The woman was free and that was grand but it was adding to the chaos.

It looked like every inch was agony, Anima was snarling, whining, groaning her way to the second sister. She was going to do it again, take the mystery teather onto her pulse. She took in a deep gasp as she tried, as she succeeded. The pull on her emotions grew, threatened to rip straight out of her chest, drive her mad if she couldn't get free. It was tertible breath sucking, bone melting longing, abandonment, she was alone, she felt completely alone, an island in an endless ocean of white.

The nails at her wrist were pulled away, put at a new chunk of flesh, a new pulse. "Hmm." That sound she knew anywhere peirced through the white. The warmth, the rythm, this heartbeat held under her viced grip was one she knew well as her own.  
"G. . . Geralt?" It was spat as much as it was gasped.  
"Hmm." He had pulled her hand straight to his throat, letting his pulse ground her as only he could. "I'm here Anima. What . . . tell me what's happening?"  
"Another . . . Someone like me . . . An empath with powers like. . . Ahh!" The tethers were tearing her head apart, the isolation, the deprivation was maddening, thoughts echoing in her skull, tauning her sanity. The pulling was physically painful, this was not the fluttering heartbeat one chased for, it was one struggling to keep blood flowing. Placing his hand over hers he encouraged her to dig deeper, anchor in, to ground her further.  
"Focus on me Anima ok?" He leaned his head against hers.  
"Geralt?" She was squirming to get away, just like in her nightmares.  
"I'm here." He pulled an arm around her back using all his weight to hold her there.  
"I need to go I need to-" She tried to stand, tried to run.  
"No." He growled squeezing any choice to flee from her. "If I can't leave you here you can't leave me. Deal?" That's how they worked, how they always worked. Through concessions and compromises, giving and exchanging at an even rate, bartering for care was the only thing that made sense to the two frustratingly practical individuals.  
"You promise you're here? If I open my eyes you're here? It feels like you're away like I need to get to you need to find you. You're so fucking-"  
"Here." He grimaced slightly as he pressed her fingers deeper into his flesh. "Right here." Deeper till it bled. "Trust me. Don't trust the void." He was asking her to ignore her own senses, her own abilities, everything she had ever used to survive and overcome. Her eyes rocketed open. Her hands grabbed at his face holding it in shaking fingers.  
"Geralt?" She was almost crying, as she breached the surface. No tears but nearly there as she crushed her lips against his.  
"Here. I'm here." It was first a grumble but was repeated as an assuring sigh against her lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is becoming more slow burn than I intended for this story and for that I aplogize. I honestly think this is the farthest into a story in this series I've gotten without delving into smut, I'll get there eventually but nothing new is popping into my mind and I'd hate to repeat what I've done before. Sugestions are welcomed.


	7. Mind over Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to get out of basements and into bars.

"What the fuck was that? Anima are you alright?" Jaskier could barely see the empath who was swallowed in Geralt's hold.  
"I . . ." She let go of Geralt's neck, clutching at her chest. "No." She gave a grimace that sold more of annoyance than pain. "It's still there. . . they're still attatched." She stood on shaky legs and went to step forward but Geralt stopped her, untrusting that her movements were her own.  
“And how do we get it untethered from you? It’s not like we have a spare emplth running around. Wait this town doesn’t have an empath like . . . a . . . . enhanced-“  
“You can say mutant Jaskier it doesn’t hurt my feelings.” Anima was teetering between the white void and the dark cellar and it was taking most of her concentration to hold fast in both, concentration that could be better used elsewhere.  
“Well maybe even a non mutant one. Would that help? I mean for you I’ve gotten my fill of-“  
“All the souly bits, yes Jaskier I’m sorry. I quite litteraly feel your pain.” Anima felt it lacing in deeper, she could fight it, in ways these girls who couldn’t see nor touch it had no way too, but a needle in your heart hurts just as much if not more when you see it.  
“How Anima?” Geralt, had been a moment too late, again. Lost in the shortcomings of days ago had caused another, this wasn’t like him, he was always ahead, never chasing behind, but this was an enemy he couldn't track.  
“I’ll do it.” She could feel it tugging, she needed to focus on that and just that, it would take a lot of unweaving, all this talking was wasting time. “I’ll do it myself. I’ll be fine. I just need somewhere . . . quiet. Lann? If you take your sisters out do you mind if I stay down here a while?”  
“I uh . . . sure. Anything. You’ve saved my family our legacy, feel free to use the cellar to your liking. I’d be more inclined to post you up in a room at the Inn it’d be a more fitting show of gratitiude for-“  
“Cheers on the Legacy. Maybe a room at the Inn for the gents I need quiet. I need everyone to leave” This would be uncomfortable, it’d be painful, she vaguely rememebered doing something like this far back, past the point she liked to dwell on. “Go on!” She shooed at the hazy outlines of the group still huddled round. Slow trodding and with some help with the women up the stairs she was all but alone.

“You too worrier. You’re more distracting than most.” He had let go to help one of the women upstairs but he remained in the cellar.  
“Hmm. I’ve been told I’m quite good at keeping quiet and to myself.” He wasn’t leaving her, he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening but the way her fingers and breath, and all of her just kept twitching, he wouldn’t be caught catching up again.  
“Those people are looking at you all wrong.” Quiet and to himself sure, but he still somehow took all the breath out of a room, he didn’t want attention but he sure commanded it. “Really I’d prefer if you went G . . . you’ll skew my concentration. I know you like feeling useful if-“ He couldn’t fault her for using his name during a moment of distress, but this wasn’t distress, atleast not yet.  
“I’m not a farm hand Anima. Tell me what you’re doing, exactly. . ." He paused for emphasis. “And I’ll figure out what I need to do.”  
‘You don’t **need** to do anything. Do you see me up on your heels when you’re fighting kikimore suggesting I have a look at the emotional workings of the beast? There’s nothing to slay here.” Her voice was sharp and pointed, it was raising in a way it normally didn't.  
“I’m not here to slay.” Geralt barked back. If she thought he would bow out under a mild seethe she was wrong.  
“Then . . . . fine stand by the door at least, if I do slip just make sure I don’t start wandering.” Her voice softened into a sigh, she had too much fight ahead of her to pick another with Geralt.  
“You skipped the step when you explain what it is you’re doing. Your eyes they’re stil not right.”  
“Remember . . . when I attached my heartbeat to yours? Back when I was allowed?” One by one each threaded thump of a mystery heartbeat was loosened and pried from it’s spot in her's.  
“You were never allowed. You ask Jaskier, you just thrust yourself on me.”  
“There was a time when you appreciated my thrusts." The accompanying smirk was short lived. "I’ve learned to be more polite. It really can be . . . uncomfortable if you’re not ready for it. My power used to be more subtle, felt more subtle.” She grunted. Each thread had a poisonous touch to it, sending shivers of doubt and abandonment and distance through her, the hold was loosening but the effects were lingering. Geralt seemed farther and farther away, the world seemed farther and farther away. She felt alone.

“Hmm.” It had been months closing in on a year when she had done it last, and it felt different and more powerful than it had the many years back when she had first done it. She and Fredrick had retaught her how to use her ability, but not how to master it, she still tended to be like a tornado, focused and strong at the core but destructive and wild around the edges. “I’ve never felt physically drawn to you before though.”  
“Never? First you scoff at my thrusts now this. Beginging to think you don’t enjoy my company at all.” Maybe it was good, having him here, even if his voice was sounding farther away, maybe she needed a little warmth a little reassurance that her emotions were playing tricks on her, were being manipulated. If anyone was to bawk at emotions and state stern cold facts who better than Geralt?  
“Anima we’ve danced long enough. What is going on. State plainly what you’re feeling what’s happening?”  
“Well you never felt drawn to me because longing and lonliness were not emotions I made you feel. Calm or terror those are my staples, never gave you that one either. If I made you long I could in theory have you trek the whole continent is search of reprieve.”  
“And that’s what this other empath is doing to you, and to the women of the other town? The empath the witch spoke of.” Perhaps it was a fishing expedition, the other empath the witch had told him about was searching for more pieces of the glass that mutated them, empaths tended to be females, if they brought all the females to them they’d eventually find some that way. Time passed on and Anima began to sweat, began to struggle, she felt herself slipping, the white expanse around her was growing, she was beginning to forget Geralt was even there, where there was. Did this place have walls? A ceiling? She was sure it did, but that sureness was growing fuzzy. “Anima I-“ He could hear her breath quicken, headed into a sprial of fight or flight. "Anima!" He growled, She didn't respond, not till a dark little whisper left her lips.

“You knew.”  
“I didn’t-“  
“That’s why we were running to Temeria wasn’t it? For the other empath.” This was the edges, this was where she started to lose her focus. The distance, the doubt, the longing and loneliness, it was warping as much as it was piecing together the facts.  
“The witch said that he was looking for other shards of the mirror I figured-“  
“You figured without telling me. The one person who might know more than you about this particular topic! You really do think you can fix everything yourself! Why? It is about trust Geralt or I’m sorry Witcher that shall not be named. I . . .” She paused, she breathed, she was still pulling the tether off of her, slowly but surely, she had to move faster, had to focus. “I’d really rather be alone to do this.” She would still be upset afterwards, but upset with a clearer mind, and Geralt deserved that. “I think I’ll only get nastier from her. Lonely is not a pretty color on me.”  
“You’d rather be alone because you don’t deal well with lonliness? What backwards logic is that?” Geralt was not always great at comforting but he was estutue at standing his ground. Different sides of the same coin, Geralt needed to move or act to ride out aflictions, Anima needed to talk and feel, he had done this for her before, he would do it again.

“I’m not leaving you here.” But talking was not his strong suit, and he refused to shout at her from the door. He was slow, nearly soundless but then he was behind her, he let his hands rest on her shoulders.  
“What was your plan? Take me to Temeria and then what? Were we going to kill the empath? Were you going to leave me to train with them? What?”  
“If he can put more in, he needs to know how to take it out.”  
“Yeah, out of corpses! If they’re getting them from bodies, they’re cold ones. I . . . I’m still afraid of dying you know?”  
“I know.” Kneelling down he placed his chin atop her head. “And If I’ve put doubt in your mind that it isn’t a constant focus of mine to have you not die I apologize. It was a misstep when I left you and Jaskier in-“  
“Then why did you?” This was the nastier she was worried about. "Haven't I done enough? Been enough? Why would you leave me? You won't lay in bed with me, won't let me call you by name. It's as if you don't-"  
"I'm here aren't I?" He tried to remain even, grounded in fact and reason for her but it did dig. It dug at his guilt for leaving her, guilt for letting his self doubt affect Anima, guilt for not avoiding this. Jaskier was right he couldn't see the future but it didn't stop Geralt from thinking he must've had some sense he wasn't utilizing that could have forseen this.  
"It would have been less painful if you left me with the dogs."  
"You're being dramatic." He was reminding himself, emotions were to empaths, what potions were to witchers, valuable tools with heavy side effects. She rode out the potions with him, he had to bunker down and ride out this emotion with her.  
"Instead you let some guilty moral code drag this out. If you had let them have me, let them eat me-"  
"They weren't going to eat you." He still had facts, there was only animal blood in that butcher shop, they were deviants not canibals. "I wouldn't have left you with them. What have I told you Anima?" He needed her to start thinking, stop plumiting down this hole of false feelings and start thinking.  
"Even if they didn't kill me, we both know there's no undoing mutations, no fairy tail endings, that was a foolish-"  
"I know. Anima do you remember what I've told you?" He grimaced, she was pulling no punches, inadvertantly pointing out all his follies. It had been short sighted and naieve of him to think there was a way to remove the glass from her blood. He had let hope for her safety cloud the reality of their biology.

"If it was taken out. What would I be then? What use would I be then? Without my abilities I'm just another down on her luck whore."  
"I don't want you to be useful-" Her words were so fast, he was scrambling to keep up.  
"So you'd prefer the later?"  
"I'd prefer you alive Anima! Is that so tragic and idiotic of me? That I . . ." Geralt bunkered sturdier still. "Anima say my name."  
"Huh?"  
"Just once, just say it." He was atleast holding her bitter attention. His ears were burning, if they had tougues they'd be drooling, they had held chaste too long, he only had so much guilt, and he could reason in the moment they both needed this.  
"Geralt." And there was a long, silence, just some lingering groans from Anima as all but some loose threads of the tether were pulled from her and then just breathing, their breathing, for the first time in days they were both letting their lungs fill with light air. Geralt swallowed hard before speaking again.

"There is nothing I would not do, no snowballs chance I wouldn't seek out to make sure that you sound just like that, say my name just like that."  
"One more time then? Make sure you heard it right?" The clawing finally off she had a bit of her coy sensability back in her.  
"Hmm." And his head still poached atop hers cocked to the side, as if to listen closer.  
"If I say it will you stay in bed with me tonight? I don't want to be alone-"  
"Hmm." It was bit impatient, he was hearing a lot of words, but not the ones he was after.  
"Will you have a drink with me? At the Inn-"  
"Not your awful stout." That was a lie if it had to be stout, for her to say it again He'd choke down a gallon.  
"No you can have what you'd like you can-"  
"Anima." He gave a tug at the base of her hair, she might not have worn lonely well but impatience sat just as poorly in the witcher.  
"You won't leave me? Not here? Not in Temeria?"  
"I'm here Anima, and wherever I am, within reason, you'll be there too."  
"I don't believe you." It still held fast, the fear, the abandonment.  
"Then I'll make you believe me."  
"Even if I was just a down on her luck-"  
"You're not. I shouldn't have tried to think I could fix you . I-"  
"I try to fix you all the time Geralt." And pressure rose from his shoulders but not enough he needed more.  
"Anima just-"  
"Always just once more with you. Don't you get tired of hearing your own damn name? It's ok to try and fix, we're all a bit broken and sure we can change who we are but Geralt we can't change what we are. I'll always be this peice of broken glass and you'll always be-"  
"Good to you."  
"What?"  
"That's what I've said I'll be isn't it? You couldn't remember it before. Remember it now? I'll remind you if I have to."  
"Have to. Like being good to someone is a threat."  
"Most of what I do can be taken as a threat." This banter was fun, was cathartic was healing but there was still multiple tasks at hand.

"Is it still on you . . . or in you . . . however it works." He lifted his head pulling her's back by a handful of hair, inspecting her eyes, pupils were coming back into them.  
"Mostly normal." It was her turn to not lie but omit, she was keeping just a few strands tethered, it would make it less likely for the empath to seek her out if they were under the impression they still had her. It would also make them easier to find when they got to Temeria. The longing was still there, but in an after thought sort of way.  
"And the side effects?" He gave a soft kiss to a still knitt brow, her hair still laced in his fingers.  
"Will die down. Still a bit prickly."  
"Hmm." Prickly he could deal with, he let go of her hair pulling back from her slightly, running knuckles down her spine.  
"Geralt?" And this was light and unknotted and just what he had been missing.  
"Hmm?" She could ask him anything in the moment.  
"I really did a number on you." Turning to face him she let her fingers trace down a line of nail scrapings at his neck.  
"Huh?" Geralt hardly recognized them to be a 'number', hardly recognized them at all, the feeling of her fingertips registered more than the clawing itself. "That plus the cleaver." Her fingers left his neck and found his hand, pulling off the glove the bandages remained.  
"It's healed." The dressings were just that, just something he had forgotten to remove, or maybe he had been holding onto the small token of affection he had allowed himself.  
"I've marked you in the worst way." She feared she was becoming toxic, unhinged and dangerous. Would she lash out at him again? Would he wise up and leave her? When she lingered in an emotion too long it really did stain her. "You have to stop letting me use you as-"  
"I could think of worse ways. Come on, you might not have earned coin but your work today got us a room at one of your precious Inns. Be a shame to stay locked down in a cellar." His bandaged hand gave hers a squeeze, he needed to get her out of here, needed the affects of her ability have time to dilute, then they could worry what discomforts they were willing to bear for the other's sake.

"Could you think of better ways?" She didn't protest their departure as they made their way upstairs.  
"Hmm. We'll run out of salve at this rate." He knew this for what it was, an act of desperation. She was still feeling he had left her, or would leave her. She wanted in some way to mark him, or have him do onto her in a way to quell those fears, to make things seem more concrete. It shouldn't be that way, it wasn't something he was willing to do to appease a sure to be waining concern. He would have to find another way to appease her, to promise her he would let her keep him as long as she aimed to. If that appeasement fed his urge to be wanted by her, to hear her say his name, if it brought him conformation that she forgave him, loved him, as Anima would say, twice the better. "I'll think of something."

“There sure are a lot of them.” Even for her, even in her current state it was hard to feel alone, in a bar so cramped and crowded.  
“What women?” Geralt was a fan of personal space, but also had the unfortunate necessity to take up a lot of realestate, the amount of elbows graising against his as they made their way through was, in no other words, agrevating.  
“No Geralt bar stools. Yes Women look at them all. From all over by the looks of it. Why here though?”  
“Chaos brings people together or tears them apart there’s no real grey area there.” He shrugged while giving a shove to some drunkard tripping too close. It was odd, why this town was rampant with women and the other bone dry of them. _‘Bottlenecking.’_ If this town because safe pasture, women would come from wherever afflicted to find sanctuary. “This place should be a safe for a time.”  
“Safe until it isn’t? That goes for most people places and things doesn’t it?”  
“Hmm.” It worked, again, and as he figured it would for the foreseeable future. Anima looked less scared, less troubled or whatever else was holding sleep from her, the Inn was doing it’s magic.

“Excuse me . . .” Anima was struggling to snake and squirm her way through the crowd. Geralt always wondered why she was overly polite to those she people she knew she’d never see again. “Sorry.” He grabbed at the back of her shirt and used her partialy as a battering ram, pushing them forward towards the actual bar itself. “Sorry again. Gods your beautiful.” She smiled up at an amazon of a woman. “Geralt if you had found a girl like her you wouldn’t have to crouch so much. You need taller friends, taller lovers.” Her smile was back, a bit sheepish but it was slowly regaining it’s confidence.  
“I don’t mind crouching.” He watched as she leaned hard against the bar desperate to get the poor overworked tender’s attention.  
“It can’t be good for your back.” She glanced over her shoulder only for a second not wanting to lose her place in the queue. “Ah Hello! One stout and one vodka please and thank you.” The money she had saved over years were dwindling, but she had saved it to spend it eventually right? It always pained her to part with it but she’d think of something, sooner rather than later hopefully, that would put some in instead of emptying her pockets. _‘Just a few games of Gwent but nooo.’_ It didn’t matter, it was nice to do something, even if it was buy a drink, Geralt did so much to keep their motley crew moving, she’d buy him vodka till her pockets tore.  
“Nothing I do is good for my back.” That wasn’t true, he took skin melting baths, that had to count for something. “And I don’t mind crouching.” He wasn’t one for liking things, or rather not for admitting that he did. Half not thinking it becoming of a Witcher to have fickle preferences, part of it was a worry that liking something meant it was more likely to be ripped from you. So Geralt didn’t like things, he simply didn’t mind things some more than others.  
“What you like looming over people?” She handed him over his drink smiling into her dark and stormy stout, but it got darker, there was overcast.

“Are you saying I loom?” It had a intimidating conitation to it, but if she felt that way it never showed, and to Geralt crouching over someone had almost the opposite gesture to it. If he was eye to eye with someone, intimidation radiated from him weather he liked it or not. Battle, conversation or passing, he would not blink first and a stare face to face with a withcer spine aligned to the sun, couldn’t be anything but intimidating. Crouching gave a curve to him, reigned his gaze slightly, face and shoulders tilited in it bred for a softer exchange.  
“You loom terribly.” She nodded tilting her head back, farther than necessary for dramatic effect. “But I don’t mind.” It was comforting, his looming, every conversation no matter how out in the open had an intimacy to it, with Geralt’s back to the whole world and his gaze down on her.  
“Good. Fairly certain you’ve had your last growth spurt.” He retook the back collar of her shirt and pressed his battering ram of politeness through the tavern.  
“Excuse me. Sorry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'll lighten up eventually . . . I hope


	8. Focus and control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's knowing what you want and knowing how to get it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure exactly how quick the next chapter will come, I kind of worked myself to this point and have to figure out what or more accurately how I want to get to the next. But I quiet like what I have done.

"I don't think I've ever seen you drink so slow." He watched in near amazement as she actually seemed to taste the drink going down.  
"Dredding getting in line again." On being outed she took a long gulp. And as Jaskier strummed a familiar tune to a crowd he loved and loved him back Geralt noticed another thing. Anima loved this song, it was one of those twirly little numbers and he had never seen her, drunk, tired, that one time a goat bit her calf, keep her from getting up to twirl right along with it. that's normally when Geralt would leave, too much mirth and wasted movement. Even Jaskier noticed, scowering his fields of beauties surprised to see no red headed tornado tumbling among them. "Your song is playing."  
"It is." She let her eyes close and her head bobbed along to the rythm.  
"You're tired." Tired wasn't the right word, she was crashing. All the worrying, the bickering, the hurt and the distancing, it had been keeping her up, keeping alert, she was nothing but embers at this point.  
"Can't sleep just yet." She struggled to blink life into her eyes, she took another sip and then rested her chin on the rim of her glass.  
"No?"  
"Need to stay up till I can't anymore. It's like holding your breath to rid yourself of the hiccups. Should work well enough, I've done it before, works most of the time."  
"Most?" He was letting her talk, letting her drop just enough of her gaurd so he could reason out a plan of attack.  
"Can't starve every nightmare. Some will just stick, just be a part of you."  
"And how long do you plan to starve? I can't carry you to Temeria." This home remedy of hers was working counter balance to the healing property of the Inn.  
"And there's the rub. On the road I have to sleep, it's just not fair to you not to. I'm stuck in this terrible half starved state. I'll figure it out." She kicked her heels up on his knees.  
"Hmm." Under the table he kneaded at the muscles behind her leg, he hadn't just missed his name, he missed her closeness.  
"I may be tired. . ." She lifted her chin and squinted at Geralt for a moment before taking another drink. "But you're frustrated."  
"While I'm not here to slay, it is what I'm . . . better at." This had all been going on like some sort of escort mission and those were not Geralt's favorite.  
"Well once we get to Temeria proper, we'll find the warm body behind all this. That's more your speed than mine. I'm not saying you have to slay them, violence isn't always your tactic-" She shrugged. "You always figure the right thing to do."  
"Hmm." That gave slight relief to his building annoyance. He was one to act, not react, he had dealt with Ifrits, wraiths, curses, plently a manner of things that weren't dense blood and bone. He was more than a brute, he wasn't frustrated he didn't have something to impale a sword on or send a punch through. Rather while it might not have always been the right thing, in most situations he'd always been able to do something.  
"It's because your head is stuck in that basement you know?"  
"And yours isn't?" He would not be made out to be the only one not on firm footing after the close call.  
"It is." Her smile wrenched up as she let her eyes drift back to her cup.  
"Anima pretending everything is alright will not make this better."  
"Neither will chastising yourself unworthy of hearing your own name just for not being ominpresent. I think we can agree our coping methods are not ideal." There was more of a chuckle to that statement then there should have been. "Healthy minds we are lacking. What do you normally do to clear your head?" Her cup was empty but she'd take more conversation before grabbing herself another.  
"Stop thinking." He could have said meditated, but if he couldn't do much at least he could make her smile.  
"And you haven't been able to do that lately?"  
"You keep tossing and turning, it's distracting."  
"You're telling me you can't tune out a little sheet rustling?" Anima found it hard to believe that after all his training a bit of tossing and turning was stripping him of focus.  
"I have spent years traveling with Jaskier." They both glanced over to the bard who was standing or more appropriately teetering with all the grace of a bull in a china shop on the center table of the room, demanding any and all attention. "I can tune out anything."  
"So?"  
"I mind the tossing and turning. I . . . Stay up till you can't anymore, starve out the nightmares wasn't that it?"  
"That's the idea." She scrunched her brow, Geralt looked, determined. Well he always looked determined, but now he looked determined with a plan. It was a face he wore well, there was no room in his features for worry or doubt. He was content in moments like these, eyes fluttering with plot, but content. She just had no clue what plan he had stumbled on. "Geralt?"  
"Come on." He stood and looked for the path of least resistance to the main desk. He took Anima's hand and began to part the sea of patrons. Only glancing back one time at the frenzy that this chaos had created. "Jaskier get off the table!"

"Go on, sit. Stop thinking. I won't toss and turn I promise." Anima laid back on the bed doing her best to take small even breaths. She had been so afraid of fading away but in the moment she wanted to be barely there, barely noticable. She stared up at the ceiling with dry tired eyes, counting the cracks in the ceader.  
"Hmm." Geralt was finally able to take off his armor, finally able to sit and breathe, and while the ruckus from the bar, Jaskier's voice and all penetrated the walls and floor boards it was finally quiet enough to focus on not focusing. "Sit with me."  
"Huh?" It was a quiet question as she propped herself up on her elbow staring quizicaly at the back of Geralt's head. "No that's your thing. I wouldn't be good at-"  
"How is it possible to be bad at sitting and not thinking?" He didn't hear her move, or respond, her breaths were purposefully slow but her heartbeat was still rabid and uneven, there was still an frayed edge. "Sit with me." And after another long moment past he grumbled. "Please."  
"Alright Alright. I don't see the point but I'll try." She sat next to him, closing her eyes like him, trying to stay motionless like him, her mind wandered though.  
"The point is not to think."  
"Ok. Calm I can be-" Enough time had passed, the loneliness had begun to work it's way through her system, the longing still held but she could overload herself with calm. It was one of her staples, she just needed to focus harder than normal.  
"Not to feel either."  
"Then to what?" Not thinking not feeling, what was left?  
"Just nothing." It was simple enough to Geralt, but he could tell she was not understanding. "Just time passing. Time to recover."  
"Oh. So maybe I'll fade into sleep? Instead of starving I'll sneak past the nightmares? Stealthy like you?"  
"No. Just trust me." This had a purpose, it was not an exercise in self restraint, but if he spent his whole time in explaining, that was exactly what it would be.  
"Fine Geralt." She let out a heavy sigh. "So how does one stop thinking or feeling? Count sheep? Imagine waves crashing on the coast?" Thill and some of the others in Lyria had gone on a meditation craze a little while before Anima left, if she recalled they were doing it to improve blood flow, or to lose weight, keep away wrinkles, some health fad. Anima had tried but as stated she wasn't good at it, she found no serenity just annoyance and a reminder that she tended to have horrible posture. She would try for Geralt though, if this was part of his determined plan she wouldn't dismiss it outright.  
"Hmm." He could nearly smell her cynicism but he pressed forward, explained it to her like it had been explained to him. "Something like a mix of the two. Stairs, leading into a pool. Count them. Tenth step your feet touch the water, ninth it's at your ankles-"  
"I don't like pools." Anima scrunched her brow, the image of cold water at her heels was not peaceful.  
"Worried you'll drown in a body of water that's not there?" Geralt couldn't help but scoff.  
"It is . . . unlikely." Anima nodded and she tried, to picture the stairs, the pool, the water.

Time passed and Anima's posture was still bad and her concentration was still wandering and every once in a while she did feel like she was drowning or free falling, some unpleasant out of body experience but coversley every once in a while she did feel. . . nothing. More time passed and when Geralt slowly opened his eyes and glanced over at Anima, her shoulders had dropped slightly, her face was neutral. "Better?"  
"It's a neat trick I'll give you that. You learn that in Kaer Morhen?" Her eyes lazily lifted open.  
"Not a trick. Forgot how to center yourself." He figured all the training she and Fredrick had scratched from old books were all about pushing and breaking through limits, not about what to do after the break.  
"I was meant to center others. To be a center. You can't center if you're busy-"  
"Don't care what you were meant for." Geralt's hand snuck about Anima's waist, pulling her into his lap. Maybe this wasn't what she was meant for either. He took one of her wrists up to his face peeling back the bandages deep cutting scrapes were healing over well. He ran a thumb over it's center, but he wouldn't dwell there again. He had to make sure she was moving forward as well. He released her wrist and brought his hand into the depths of her hair. "Care how you are." He gave a playful tug and the smile on her face was less tense, still ungodly tired but less on edge than it had been in days. She didn't have to be over what happened in that basement, he didn't imagine her to be, but he didn't want her to dwell there either.  
"I think we'll live."  
"Hmm." Living was enough, day to day, it was not wise to often ask for more. This wasn't an often moment though, one could ask for just a bit more. He laid a kiss at the inside of her neck, mouth resting there almost to gauge in a change of pulse, he was weary.

 _'Don't touch me!'_ When he had helped her on roach those words branded into his rib cage, chaining off sustainable breath. He couldn't unhear them and was doing his best not to hear them again. She tilted her head against his, almost nudging him closer. She ran a reasursing hand from his hip down to his knee, in pace with his mouth, moving from neck to shoulder down to the mid of her arm. "I'd like to be able to see your face Geralt." And she turned in his lap, never sitting up, never breaking contact, she just seamlessly had a knee at each side smiling warmly at him. "There not so far away now are we? No tree to post up against." She kissed him, it was soft but not weary, it was a deliberate softness as she kissed him a second and third time. He couldn't tell if that was for her sake or his, it was always tricky with her. It was hard to tell what she genuinely wanted or needed, she didn't shutter the thought of wants like Geralt had. Rather she'd tuck her wants at the far back of the line or more adequately bend them in shape of what she thought would best please others. He had to keep an extra keen eye, had to look for any tell she offered or slipped before it shifted out of focus. "Anima." He watched as she went to peel off her tunic but he stopped her, closing his hands over hers at the hem.  
"Geralt?" There was the weariness, he had been watching, listening, waiting, he knew it would come and he was fully prepared to catch it, to slay it. ' _They didn't have sex with me.'_ Those words hung like weights at the ends of the chains. She thought another man's touch could sully her for him, that their scent or touch would linger and Geralt would be unable to stomach it. His hands left hers and reached to the back of her shirt, pulling the fabric over her head, kissing at newly explorable flesh. She was half right, the thought of another's touch on her body did stoke him poorly but not because it sullied her. She tasted just as warm and crisp as always, smelled of tea leaves and dried fruit under the dirt and ash of the road, felt as much of a welcoming home as she always did, that he could not imagine changing. It was that someone else reached out and grabbed without caution or concern, in no way apreciated, understood, loved her as much as he did, as much as he aimed to show. They hadn't sullied her, but even his touch flayed at long scared wounds because of them, and that's what stoked him, they had taken that ability away from him. He wasn't angry now though, he couldn't be, as he heard a small keening sigh, melting away at some of his ever present worry. There was relief in there but there was want as well. He groaned into her flesh. "I've missed you Anima."  
"I didn't go anywhere." Her hands were tracing circles along his broad back, her teeth nipping slightly at the ear she had chuckled in. "You were the one sulking outside your bedroll. You could have-"  
"Couldn't touch you." His voice was deep in his throat as he clarified. It wasn't just her that was hurt, he could say it was all just concern for the person he cared about but that wasn't it. His metle had been dented, all our of sorts wondering if he had strayed so far off the path, that his ability to serve his purpose had rusted, and to be without purpose was a gutting feeling, one he hadn't known in so long that it had taken the wind right out of him, left him a husk. His head tossed as to warn those thoughts not to return. He could touch her now, he was doing his best to stay vigilant for cues but the softness of how her body ascended into his was working a touch starved frenzy in him, helping make the hurt a distancing memory. He wasn't so lost to miss it though, a hitch in her breath that seemed out of place. "Anima?"  
"Mhm?" Though her smile remained eyes seem to be struggling, searching, like when he hadn't seen fear and had requested it just to have normalcy, he detested the notion of repeating mistakes. "What?" His hands went to hers, halting her again. He stared at her, there was no impatience in his eyes, he could wait forever. "No one's ever said that. I mean it's not a thing you say but I mean I can always tell what people want, that's always been the ticket. The way to stay ahead and not get left-" The idea of someone wanting something of her and obstaining instead of taking it from her opened hands somehow was breaking her brain. There was a snarl of protest that brought her train of thought to a stop.  
"What do I want right now?"  
"To be incredibly gentle with me because you think I'm cracked porcelain about to shatter into powder" It was a little annoyed but then again Geralt hadn't been the only one starved for touch.  
"Better at that what than the why." He grumbled and as if starting from the very beginning his lips found their way to the inside of her neck again, grazing up against her pulse. "I don't get to be . . . gentle often. I don't mind being gentle with you on occasion." He laid his cards on the table. "And you?"  
"Me?" She felt his mouth take a familiar path along her shoulder.  
"Seer of all wants and needs. What do you want?"  
"I want you Geralt." She enjoyed it more this time, the heady groan of Geralt straight into her skin. "I believe you can be gentle Geralt, I know you deserve to have something soft." Geralt stood, a loose hold around her back, taking her over to the bed. "Will you let me be soft with you Geralt?" It was a breezy question floating in his ears. It was a tell, this was for him he wasn't fooled but as he 'loomed' over her he saw a second tell. She was thinking, a determined smile, but thinking, maybe planning.

He was still weary, erring on excruciating patient. He could hear pleasant little sighs and almost moans as he got reaquainted with her skin, letting large palms alternate, strum up and down at her sides, kissing along her collar bone, teeth lingering but not pressing. She seemed content to outline the features of his skull with feathery fingers, his brow the edges of his ears, his jaw down to the start of his spine, a small trail of kisses at the edge of his hairline. "Geralt?"  
"Hmm?" She seemed to be thinking an awful lot, it's not as if he expected her to be a mindless puddle but he was normally the one who got chastised for over thinking at inconvienent times.  
"Lie down. Seems as though I am going to have prove to you that I'm not going to shatter into dust." It was still soft light and airy but there was a put out tail to the sentence.  
"Anima I don't think you're-"  
"You can either lie down and let me continue to touch you. Or you can lie down and touch yourself till you nod off, the choice is yours but either way that back of yours is hitting mattress."  
"Hmm." Overcast was lifted as he folded over onto his side, eventually with a slight grumble he conceded to laying out on his back.  
"Hmm indeed." Anima chuckled and she just stared for a moment watching as ever present tension left his shoulders while she braced her hands atop them. She took control of the pace, it was soft and gentle just as promised, dusting up them hem of Geralt's shirt with her nose kissing a petting trail up his abdomen. "Wasn't so hard was it? Flawless transition Geralt."  
"Hmm." It was easier, somehow even softer when Anima took the reigns. Wasn't so impossible when he really thought about it, she was soft, she was light, it was coming out of her in each hot breath against his skin, each fingertip that didn't dig but scooped at his muscles, he was feeling lighter, like pounds of ore were being shook loose from his bones. He just barely groaned at the motion of his shirt being pulled over his head, his hips barely rose along with his arms. He hummed from deep in his core at the muzzled moan that the light brush of his still clothed heat against hers elicited from Anima. But as his eyes popped from under black fabric every pound came avelanching down on his chest.

"Anima?" She was still kissing, still touching, a hand went smoothly through his hair but her eyes were conflicted, somewhere between realization and frustration.  
"Geralt?" And his name still sounded of unwavering love from her but there was a kernel of discomfort crammed in as well.  
"Did I do something wrong?" He was more confused than anything, he had only taken his eyes off her for a moment.  
"Do something?" Her chin fell in right above his naval as she looked up at him contemplating. "Geralt you're laying down like a comfortable bowl of noodles. What could you have possibly done?" It was true all he had done was what she had asked of him but one moment she was fine and now she wasn't, he must've done something. She atempted to run a comforting hand down his cheek but he snapped away from her touch.  
"Anima stop."  
"Ok." And she stopped, she froze over him, and her eyes were still sifting, still thinking and it was driving Geralt mad, curled a snarl from out of his throat. She moved to get off of him but he grabbed at the back of her head clutching her to his bare chest just a little too tight. "Geralt what-"  
"Whatever it is I won't do it again. I swear." He had just given himself permission to feel her and he didn't want to have to start all over again. If she pulled away again he'd let her but he was not one to just cave outright.  
"Geralt you didn't do anything wrong. Not a damn thing ok?" She let out a concerned sigh. "This is just what I was . . ." Anima moved her face best she could to catch Geralt's eyes. "I love you very much Geralt. So much. More than I ever thought I . . . Geralt?" Those eyes she had caught were boiling, burning heavy with anger. The heat in his gaze was paradoxical, any warmth that had washed over Geralt chilled with a bite so cold he was waiting for parts to start blackening and die.  
"Finish the thought Anima." Geralt was waiting for some head lobbing blow to pass through her lips.  
"We both know what you . . .erm . . . well what you like. You looked so wonderfully comfortable and content just laying there. I will be whatever I need to, you deserve to be happy. I just . . . it does not come naturally, I don't inherently think that way." Soft or rough was more a mood of the moment but at the root of it Geralt liked affirmation. He had to make so many choices, that affected so many people day after day, he had to fight and bleed and live with every choice. He was normally not even welcomed to stay and see if those choices were the right ones. It was it's own special pleasure to find or be given a task and being allowed to succeed, allowed to bask in it's completion. No lingering wonder if another choice would have been wiser, having someone confirm that he had met expectations.

 _'_ _Not someone.'_ He cleared his throat with a grumble. "I don't want a collar Anima."  
"Geralt that's not what I was implying." She knew Geralt had no desire to kneel at her feet like a dog, nor did he require a new way to accumulate long scars along his back, he spoke little enough as it was he needed no gag. It was something more subtle than that, something hinted to over years, something that bared itself fully in the balanced relaxed and keening look of him as she told him to lie down and he relented.  
"That's what it would imply to anyone else. I'm not a pet, not a puppet." He had stated something similar not too far back. "I don't want to be pandered to either."  
"That's why you quieted the others, hushed me." He had quickly given up the charade that he didn't chase after praises, after calls of his name, her words cooked him deeply, fully, delightfully. It was just as much about the chase as it was the capture and with Anima it wasn't just a chase it was a hunt.  
"Knowing the answer to a riddle you've already heard doesn't make you clever."  
"Huh?"  
"You sometimes bury you wants, they change on an oren. I don't mind the challenge." Being asked to fuck someone pleasantly and doing so was simply a series of actions, nothing worthy of praise. Focusing all of his senses on seeking out Anima's tells, striking and parrying through obstacles, coaxing her into voicing her wants for him, meeting whatever ever evolving need she had, that was a quest worthy of reward, worthy of praise. "That's not a call to bury them further, I don't seek an unwinnable charge."  
"Do you seek letting my head go Geralt?" Anima smiled up at him and he felt that swell of victory. He had found what she wanted, him to promise what she did for him wasn't just enough to get by but something that pleased him, he succeeded, using those hard to come by words and she rewarded him with a smile that held back the cold, she aimed to reward him more but it would prove difficult with her head wedged to his chest.  
"Hmm." He did let go but it was his turn to have Anima's epiphany make him worry. That knowing what she did she would try too hard, to be forceful for force's sake. That worry wasn't long for the world though. Anima leaned up and kissed him. It was controlling, stealing most other thoughts from his mind, leading, her tongue egging his to explore into her mouth, but it wasn't dominating, it was soft just as promised before all realizations. He let out a bit of a relieved chuckle when she finally pulled away for air, she really did flutter from one feeling to another at breakneck speeds.

Nothing had changed because nothing needed to change. She was on a trek back to where she had been. Was kissing down his throat through the dip in his chest down to his abdomen, not nails but finger tips dragged along his ribs before seeking out the ties of his trousers. It wasn't long before she engulfed him, a slow and patient rythm, warmly taking him all the way down and smiling against him as he growled with the upwards slide of her tongue. "Anima." He knew she enjoyed her spot there, enjoyed winding him tight under her mouth but she was too far away for his liking. When she didn't make any attempt at response he sat up. He reached down and pulled at the hem of her pants. He waited and watched for another hitch, another set of sifting eyes but nothing came. Her pace quickened slightly but she just continued to work, garnering her another growl. He would get her attention, two could play at this game. A finger slid inside her, no growl but he could hear a little yelp come from her occupied throat. He felt her move along with his motions, and it was more than fine but she was still far away, and while the coils wound tighter in a wonderful pressure she was too quiet and too far away and it was just frustrating enough. He stopped, laying back against the bed with a sigh. This finally at least got her eyes back at him. "Anima get closer." He watched her think for a moment, not deeply almost playfully. Hands on his thighs she pressed herself up and she, with the loss of contact, was even further away.  
"I thought we were mighty close." Her voice was shallow, breath was catching up to her chuckle.  
"Hmm." A hand hooked under her arm and pulled her up to him. Anima was eager, was wanting, but she was still just a bit too quiet. He went to move but her hands were on his chest, she was rising over him docking on him, and he saw it. He was sent on many a menial fetch quests, but this was by far favorite. As he thrust up to meet her he let his hand tangle in his hair, he didn't pull but just held, he sat up again, his nose poked at the base of her throat nudging upwards, leading her neck long, till he was at the base of her chin and it had nowhere else to go, a tight reserved moan forced out of it's burrow.

He leaned in closer still, ever deeper, whispering along side her ear. “You’re going to have to be lounder Anima, or else I won’t hear you over the commotion.” There was still bussle and carrying on piercing through their walls, but Anima merely gave a breathy scoff at his claim.  
“You fool no one. You hear everything Geralt.” And her cheeks straight into her ears were begining to bloom just for him.  
“Hmm.” He moved with more purpose as it dawned on him she’d move at this slow methodic pace until climax serenely washed over them, and while it wasn’t the worst prospect, he hadn’t heard her in so long, he desperately wanted it, and keeping her wits in check was not going to get him what he was after. He pulled her hips into his, searching out a particular angle, finding a spot in her that caused her to squeeze, caused her to gasp. Her back stretched taut, meeting him at his hungrier pace. He groaned, slightly entertained and slightly frustrated as he watched her bite down on her lip, bottling back. A hand left her hip and slid its way up to her face, a thumb freed then softly pressed past her lips, running along clenched teeth before pressing for passage. Anima relented, let him pry open her mouth just a bit, just enough, her face grew redder, her eyes were still lustfull but there was a bit of fear in them, it ebbed and flowed with their thrusts but each time a moan gritted its way past, her eyes sparked up again.

This wasn’t a new fear, not one born in a butcher’s shop, this was an old fear and not even inherently a bad one. It was always there, always right at the tipping point, he always brought her there, he always brought her past it. “I might hear everything, but they don’t.” He nodded over at the door. “It’s not for them Anima, just for me. I’m here. Be a bit louder just for me.” He would sometimes press harder, press for more, wanting to hear her words, hear her wants over and over but they were still both mending, now was not a time to press too far.  
“Geralt.” Her face buried in the crook of his neck, her voice not quite a whine but pleadingly desperate. “Geralt?” It tumbled from desperation to a lusty panic. She wanted him, needed him, it was controlling, leading, but there was no dominance, it shot electricity through his nerves, it was perfect.  
“Here Anima, I’m here.” He pushed away her hair kissing at the back of her neck. “I’ll be good to you I promise.” He could feel her begging to tip, hips grinding against his pulling him deeper, squeezing him tighter. Even the ever vigilant witcher had to close his eyes, had to clench them shut before blinking them open as the scales were leaning in him as well.  
“You are, Geralt.” She let her jaw finally go lax, confident that with Geralt there, it was ok to just give in, wash out, he would be there, she wasn’t alone, wouldn’t be left. “Good . . .” And a shiver rose up through her spine, and when it bowled into her mouth, she didn’t bite it back, just stammered on with her sentence. “Good to me Geralt. You are.” From a stutter to a moan to what could almost be heard as a purr. As she purred those pretty little words, Geralt growled. It was enough, more than enough, more of a slow aching burn than he could bear or soon cared to revisit. The scales toppled as did they, crumpling down against the bed and Geralt’s chest respectively.

Warm and without dizzying worry for the first time in weeks it caused an exacerbated sigh when he felt Anima moving, trying to to get up. _‘Just a minute of peace is that too much to ask for?’_ He grumbled throwing an arm over her, just trying to keep her in place. “No tossing and turning Anima.” He groaned, his eyes were closed, he just wanted rest. “Stay.”  
“Geralt I . . . don’t want to fall asleep. . . not just yet. I’m not tired . . .not yet.” It took a minute to register what she was actually saying, or rather sheepishly asking of him. His muscles were relaxed, he was comfortable, he very much could’ve fallen asleep right then and there. As blood returned to his brain it hit him, made sense of it, that slow almost tortuous pace she was taking it wasn’t a fawning attempt to be overly soft, it was buying time, she was building them up incrementally to starve off sleep in an entirely different way. His eyes finally opened and he glanced down at her. He had gotten her to more or less divulge her want, half the hunt was already over, he just had to quite literally rise to the challenge. “You can sleep Geralt I-“ She was quickly back tracking, it would be gone in a flash if he didn’t strike in the moment.  
“Woman I’m a witcher not a hare, cut me a moment and I promise to make you too tired to dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even my smut is diaolouge heavy, I have not regrets. Well one, sort of I know I more than vaugely alluded to some sub/dom like tendencies and I do not claim to know a lot, if really anything about that world so if it rang less than true I'm not surprised and do apologize if that took away from anything.


	9. No rest for the Witcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes an outside perspective is just what's needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt Jaskier was a bit too silent, so I gave him some time to shine too.

It smelled like cheap wine and sweat, sounded like the rambling of a madman just long twirling words that served no purpose other than the stick in one’s heads and as Geralt’s eyes opened alongside the door it looked of a man satisfied with a job well done, a town on edge satiated by his hands and lungs. “The fuck?” Anima did not open her eyes, just groaned slightly from under the covers, she was still spent, just no energy to grace the world.  
“Nothing Anima, it’s just a ghost. Go back to sleep.” She had finally stilled, no tossing or turning, no nightmares, he’d keep her in that space for as long as time would allow.  
“A ghost?! Geralt don’t joke like that. I have worked myself half to death tonight but I haven’t met my maker yet. Would it kill you to show just a mild level of appreciation-“  
“It’s not a joke.” Geralt sat up with as little excess motion as possible. “It’s a promise. I appreciate what you do Jaskier.” He gave a nod and almost half a smile before his tired face dropped. “Go to sleep.” This would be quite the coup, if he could get them all to sleep soundly under one roof for a whole handful of hours.  
“A promise? Promise of what? You can’t just casually threaten someone like that Geralt. What have I done-“  
“Jaskier casually threatening people is a third of what I do.” Geralt sighed, a coup not fought for was not worth wining he rationalized. “Go to sleep.”  
“Not to your friend. I’ve put up with all manner of you two boxing out of your honeymoon stage and-“  
“I know.” Geralt tried to stop the flow of Jaskier’s words but trouble was, the bard had already started, so it was a task nearly doomed to fail.  
“I deserve more respect than just curt demands to shut up and find my place.”  
“I know.” Geralt nodded, Jaskier was being uncharacteristically sound with his points. “I will respect you in the morning. It’s just you have no idea what I had to do to get Anima to finally rest and-“  
“Oh I think I have a fairly good idea. Just because I’m not a witcher doesn’t mean I can’t recognize the smell of an hours long sex session.”  
“Jaskier?” Anima still hadn’t moved, to be honest she wasn’t sure she could and didn’t truthfuly want to test it. “I am awfully, terribly, dreadfully tired.”  
“I can’t tell if your voice is cracking because you’re waking up or just a side effect of your efforts.” Jaskier had arms folded, lacking much sympathy but snide remarks aside, he did hear it, the near plead for just a few moments more of rest. “Anima this cycle is growing old, the both of you. Just patching yourselves up to keep moving till eventually you completely burst at the seams. And you have each other to both blame and balm while I’m some bystandard. One I care about you two idiots and if you ever cared to listen to even a small bit of my advice . . . you two know a lot about what most don’t, but you don’t know dick about what most do, normal fucking social interactions, healthy relationships, trust. If anyone is capable of bridging that gap it’s me, your friend, not just some yolk you let walk beside you from town to town. Secondly-“  
“That was all just the one? How long is this list Jaskier?” Geralt was wincing, his head splitting at this onslaught of words, again they were sound points, justifiable arguments, but they were so drawn out that the sentiment itself got lost in all the white noise.

“Secondly.” Jaskier pressed on, once he had a captive audience it would have to be pried from his cold dead hands. “Perhaps next time this happens, and there will be a next time, keep in mind that just because things aren’t going swimmingly with you two-“  
“Jaskier not swimmingly isn’t-“  
“Fine, fine I undersold. Just because one or more of you are drowning there aren’t other people in the sea. The world doesn’t stop just for . . . this.”  
“Jaskier?” Anima popped up again.  
“What?”  
“Our world will stop for you . . . tomorrow alright?”  
“Huh?”  
“Whatever you want to do, want to say, tomorrow’s your day we’ll-“  
“This isn’t something a day on the town will smooth over Anima.”  
“No.” She grumbled turning over in the sheets, it was leaving it was gone, rest was over. “We will have to change our habits to smooth this over.”  
“I’ve heard it before.” It might not have been a tantrum but if Anima thought she could out negotiate him from his fury she was wrong.  
“And you’ll hear it again.” Anima sat up, looking at him with tired eyes. “Because it will happen again. Because we are two idiots that stick too much in our heads than in the world as it is. Because the world as it is, well it's a shit place. We’ll try though, each time we’ll try and maybe one day it will stick. We’re a mixed bag, and you know that, I’d like to think that’s some of our charm.” As she looked at Jaskier for a moment, she noticed something she hadn’t seen before, something had changed. Not over years with age, but in months there was something the bard was hiding.

“You’re not as open a book as you portray either and perhaps tomorrow, when as not to fix, but as an apology we spend a day for you. You’ll care to share what’s on your mind.” She paused to give the bard the floor, he still looked like a top with too much spin left.  
“Speak his mind.” Geralt just blinked, he too was staring at Jaskier at this point. Was it even possible that there was a word Jaskier had left unspoken?  
“And if I don’t want to?” The spin was slowing, Jaskier’s arms while still folded were less tense.  
“Then you don’t have to.” Anima shrugged. “But know that we’re here if you do, because we care about you, because we’re your friends, we may be idiots but we’re your idiots.”  
“I . . . you have my respect Jaskier, most of your choices words and actions don’t-“ Geralt felt he had to explain something and now that his coup was fully dashed there was no better time.  
“What does that leave?”  
“You. As a person. If anyone else made those-“  
“Choices words and actions Geralt.”  
“Give me time to speak Jaskier words don’t flow as freely for all of us.” Geralt growled, but he wasn’t angry at Jaskier he was frustrated with himself. He hated repeating mistakes and just as Jaskier had told and retold, while the town and circumstances had changed this was not too far off what had happened a month or so back.  
“Fine.” Jaskier finally moved from his glaring perch in the doorway and sat on his bed, he had worked off a bit of steam, he had some patience to listen, the wherewithal to notice Geralt was trying.  
“The point is, I’ve done what I’ve done for a very long time. Nothing changes, people don’t change. You and all your choices, were a change. And how long did it take for me to come around on you?”  
“You’ve come around?” Jaskier was able to chuckle, able to tuck away this moment for when he did something so immeasurably stupid Geralt shouted him off a cliffside.  
“Change does not come effortlessly to witchers. We fair better with constants . . . live longer. There’s nothing constant about you. About either of you and it’s . . . I don’t mind the changes but if I know one thing it’s that if you don’t adapt you die.”  
“You’ve . . . lost me.” Jaskier couldn’t imagine just being a bit off the cuff and flamboyant, less doom and gloom was truly putting the white wolf in mortal peril.  
“I can’t . . .” Words just were not coming, some phrases formed and then trailed off into nothing. Perhaps if he roped in something he knew, something that wasn’t so far removed from the constants he lived. “It’s like fighting a griffon and a siren at the same time. How in one moment do you deal with two beasts that require such different skill sets. I’m more comfortable with griffons, more firm footing, so I let my focus settle on the siren because I need to adapt to the lesser known threat before it slips from me. In focusing on the siren, the griffon strikes.” Geralt didn’t like this analogy, as soon as he started it the improbability of such a scenario just chaffed at him.  
“That was . . . muddled.” Jaskier agreed, the comparison was not the most clear. “But I think I get where you’re coming from and I don’t hate being the griffon in this scenario.” Jaskier was glad to see that got a chuckle out of Geralt, he knew the witcher was either entertained or apauled that he could spin a compliment out of anything.

He had to admit, small and easy to overlook they were trying, the both of them. Geralt was trying to be even the slightest bit more open with what went on behind that face of thinking very important witcher things and Anima was trying to give them room to feel and and speak not under an empath’s scrutiny but into a friend’s ear. What could a bard do? How could he peel back his ability and show a more vulernable, less ignorable part of him. _‘Sleep on it.’_ Inspiration would hit him he was sure of it. As he kicked off his shoes, he glanced over at the bed full of quite a decent amount of exhausted platonic nudity and figured even if it wasn’t peeling back so much as doubling down on his skill set there was something he could do. “Anima you look awful go back to sleep.” And that got an out right laugh and a pillow thrown over at his head. “And before you say you can’t the bogeyman will get me-“  
“Jaskier.” Geralt didn’t stop the playful ribbing but warned that the bard was teetering close to trivializing. Jaskier shooed the worry straight from his face and went on.  
“Anima tell me what songs did Thill sing to put her children to sleep?” His hands were tired, he really had put in work but hell if he’d be ignored while the floor was his.  
“I’m not Thill’s child.” If Anima’s tone or stare were any flatter her face would have slipped straight under the door. First meditation now lullibies, what was next warm milk? ‘ _Still porcelain turning to dust.’_ She did her best to brush off the notion that they felt the need to coddle her like toddler. Perhaps because her scars were less blood and bone and more mind and soul they thought her of weak constitution, that she couldn’t pick herself up, dust herself off, take it on the chin with the best of them.  
“Cruel song to sing to orphans and furthermore I apologize I don’t know that one.” He pause for appreciative laughs but settled for a pair of acknowledging scoffs. “No you’re not a child.” He could see the edge to her gaze go from tired to frustrated. “But you associate feelings to colors right? Is it so far fetched that the same holds true for sounds? Songs? Familiar songs bring about familiar memories, feelings. It’ll work I swear. Not as titillating as Geralt’s method I’m sure but woman he’s a well run dry-“  
“Again with the woman.” She didn’t know if she preferred bird over woman but it appeared Jaskier had no interest in debating the point.  
“If I didn’t truly fear Geralt would make good on his brutish promise I would-“  
“Jaskier.” The bard loved to teeter, always at the edge of one of Geralt’s nerves.  
“But it’ll send your mind home Anima, and the nightmares won’t follow. If that doesn’t work I know atleast thirty other cradle songs and eventually my docile tones will lull you to sleep. Ooor as it is with Geralt you’ll will yourself to sleep to escape them.”  
“You sing lullibies to Geralt?” The deadpan left, she could muster a full laugh at this image.  
“At me. There’s no sense in arguing with him, he’ll just get louder, so loud he’ll spook Roach.” It worked though, time to time, just as Jaskier stated, Geralt would focus so hard on not hearing the bard that his mind would quiet, he’d get some sleep.  
“By hook or by crook I get results.” Jaskier shrugged.  
“And what put you to sleep bard?”  
“Huh?”  
“I’ll fall asleep at your docile tones and Geralt will sleep because I’ve run him dry. What will bring you rest?” Anima wanted to show it wasn’t all promises of tomorrow, they cared today, now.  
“What I have in bushels and you two seem to be woefully lacking, imagination. Perhaps that’s why I sleep well and chase dreams while you two stay awake to fight the nightmares that follow you into morning.” Inspiration, his eyes lit up.

“Look mighty awake to me.” Geralt cocked his head to the side, curious as to where all this energy was surging from. It was comforting that this energy seemed less spiteful, nearly the opposite, nearly gleeful. The sight warmed Geralt, a way different from Anima but it still made him smirk. While he was growing more and more accustomed to these warm feelings it didn’t mean he knew where to place them, how to prompt more of them, they always caught him by surprise.  
“In the morning.” Jaskier was shuffling comfortable against sheets and pillows before beginning to strum little nothings. “I’ll teach you.”  
“Teach us?” There were few things of life the witcher felt he needed to learn and perhaps he thought there wasn’t much more room in his head, especially for something trivial thing like imagining and day dreaming.  
“You said it yourself Geralt, tomorrow you’ll respect me and you wouldn’t make a liar out of Anima, tomorrow the day is mine. Don’t try to back track now, scared you enjoy something less-“  
“An exercise in futility?” Geralt grumbled, not too harshly though, just to keep Jaskier from rambling again. “Fine.” He rested an arm behind his head and closed his eyes, perhaps this coup was not a lost cause, Jaskiers energy surge was evening out.  
“Wait really?” The bard was expecting far more protest from the practical witcher.  
“Run dry remember?” He could feel Anima roll her eyes at him. “We all are. A day to refill, get our bearings back no heavy lifting, it’s a smart move.” He didn’t know where people got the idea withcers would charge relentlessly, half mast into battle, they were too calculative for that, more often than not they would take the patient approach. Better to do a job well after resting well than do a shit job after shit sleep. But as he pondered more, perhaps he had fed into that image, as Jaskier had pointed out Geralt tended to push and push till he finally realized there was nothing left, till he litteraly gave out under his own mass. That wasn’t out of preference, it was because he had to, he had to trudge past comfort because if he didn’t who would? An eye creaked open, looking at Jaskier, glancing down at Anima, he could see how they were each tired, each trudging right long beside him. He’d have to find balance, for all their sake, between comfort and collapse. “Running in at a handicap when there’s an option not-“  
“I get it. I get it. Don’t ruin my victory with all your tactical nonsense.” Jaskier’s strumming stopped and his smile slid.  
“Tactical no-“  
“Jaskier?” The energy was really dissipating, Anima’s eyes were now closing, her face pulled in against Great’s chest.  
“Oh yeah you’re still there.” Jaskier chuckled and resumed moving fingers along strings.  
“Do you know Éiníní?”  
“That’s not Lyrian.” Jaskier knew the old Aen Seidhen tune, it wasn’t very popular, an elder relic barely muttered by old dock hands on the isles.  
“No. It’s not. But I was a bird, little one albeit, before Lyria.” And he played it for her, he sounded nothing like her mother had, outside of the obvious reasons he sang in common speech not in the bastardized elder that was common on the shore, but it it did bring back memories, it did for a little while bring her home.

“Little birds, little birds, sleep, sleep  
Little birds, little birds, sleep, sleep

Sleep, sleep,  
By the wall outside, by the wall outside  
Sleep, sleep  
By the wall outside, by the wall outside

The blackbird and the raven,  
Go to sleep, go to sleep,  
The she-blackbird and the crow,  
Go to sleep, go to sleep

The robin and the lark,  
Go to sleep, go to sleep,  
The wren and the thrush,  
Go to sleep, go to sleep”

This was a sound he had forgotten, banging, from outside the door, shouting. "Pay up for another dusk or duck out!" It was the Inn owner. Geralt tried to think back to the last time he had slept in to the point someone had to wake him. He let his mind wander to Anima waking him up at an Inn not so far back, but as his mind wandered the banging continued.  
"Alright, Alright we're leaving." Jaskier bedhead and all barked back at the door. Anima gave a half pleased, half anyoned groan as she woke.  
"Pax? are you in there. You've been hiding in the white one's sheets all night?" And the wandering stopped. Geralt's mind was firmly rooted in the then and now, this is why he didn't sleep in, his reason to starve off rest in the first place. He didn't have the time for either, there was always something to do, someone to fight or save or find. There were women being herded in their sleep from their homes to Temeria and here was Geralt, the white wolf lounging in bed not doing dick about it. Was Pax on the list of sheep on their way to slaughter? It was unlikely but it was a reminder of the threat all the same. A reminder that made all his practical promises of a leisurely day wash from him without hesitation.

"Your strumpet's not here!" Jaskier swung open the door. "Anima?!"  
"Not Pax." She waved at the Inn owner who had not been expecting such a biting tone from the bard, taking a few steps back.  
"My day's been halved thanks to you." Jaskier glared the owner into a retreat, only to let out a disheartened sigh as he started packing up his things, he didn't even bother to close the door. "I know Geralt."  
"I didn't say anything." Geralt refused to believe he was as readable or or predictiable as the bard was implying. He knew better though, Jaskier and Anima were with him day in and day out they had a fairly good beat on his handful of faces.  
"You heard missing girl and your brain shot to all the people on the continent you are not currently right this second saving. About right?" Anima had felt the tension in Geralt's muscles slowly begin to rise as worry and guilt found it's home.  
"I need to-"  
"We need to save them I get it. But!" And Jaskier in a bold move grabbed Geralt's armor from it's nesting spot against the wall. Geralt would let Jaskier rant and and rave to his his heart's content but the witcher did have a pet peve when it came to people touching his things, he had little patience, even for his bard. Geralt stood from the bed, eyes glued to Jaskier as he started to dress, trying to give the man time to realize his mistake. "But this is what happens Geralt. There will always be an ever present danger and we will always go in pursuit to right the wrongs. But you said it yourself, mere hours ago, don't go in at a handicap. You know better but you ignore the need for self care. It makes me miss the days when Anima was in Lyria. Then you at least were able to make excuses to take time for yourself. Now we have her along which is grand but you have nothing left to detour for, pause for. Hell we'd settle to see you slow and just take a breath once in awhile. Now I know we have a moral obligation not to drag our feet but-"

"Put it down." Geralt had been listening, mostly, somewhat, but his hearing was dulled. He could hear his pulse in his ear drums and anything Jaskier was talking about or suggesting was barely breaching the thump.  
"I'm bringing it with us don't worry." Jaskier clenched the leather to his chest though it was causing him more danger than the protection it was crafted for.  
"Put it down." Geralt took a pace towards Jaskier, his nose wrinkling, holding annoyance from cresting into anger.  
"Where are you taking it Jaskier? I hear you ask." It was clear a willing participant was not neccessary for Jaskier to press on with conversation.  
"Where . . ." Anima pulled her clothes into the bed, comically shuffling among fabrics trying to get dressed with modesty that she didn't quite have concern for but as the air grew tense she was fairly certain platonic nudity had worn out it's welcome. "Where are you taking it? Assuming Geralt doesn't glare you to death." Anima took in Geralt's stance, he was leaning hard into agression, all edges. Had none on the softness of a pleasant night and well deserved sleep stuck around, were positive emotions that fleeting? _'No.'_ It had stuck and Geralt didn't know how to contain it, didn't know what to do with it, he was used to quick bursts of warmth, not the lingering. His mind wasn't woven to hold, it was woven to move, to charge to push. _'Don't care what you were meant for.'_ She would find a way for Geralt to understand and accept that there was a place for these emotions maybe not for witchers, but for him.

"We're going to a bathouse, we're going to soak then eat a propper meal, like proper people. Then Geralt will get his armor back and we can follow our hero to the next town." Jaskier bargained.  
"Jakier we don't-" Geralt's sentence stopped mid stride, arms wrapped him from behind a nose pressing just hard enough in the center of his back.  
"Please." There was no long winded reasoning, no haggling, just a tightening squeeze of Anima's arms. "Don't leave me." And those words didn't make sense, not at all, he wasn't running off into the woods. Her tone was bizare, as if he was bleeding out on the floor.  
"I haven't moved Anima." He was still, squint as hard as you would not of muscle of his twitched.  
"You haven't stopped moving Geralt. A grave will wait alright? Just a bath, just some breakfast. Just be still, just breath." It was so quiet, so sad, just pleading from her depths for something so trivial and Geralt didn't understand it. He let his eyes close, let his shoulders relax, waiting till the thumping in his ear drums lessened. Only then did it start to sink in. How absolutely, since the moment he awoke, he was a single motion away from battle. Almost comforted by the discomfort of agrivation, not trusting content. Worse yet he wasn't sure if that's how he always was, if so was that was normal? If it wasn't normal he didn't remember what normal was. This all culmenated in a foul whirlwind of uncertainty.

"I'm fine." He knew no one asked his state but the phrase came out anyway.  
"I know you are." He felt her nod against him, felt a reassuring kiss at his spine. If he was going mad Anima didn't seem to mind, that settled his mental sloshing slightly, he didn't have to solve this riddle all at once. "You deserve some moments that are more than fine. . . But in a crunch for time a bath will have to suffice." It sounded as if she had so many more words to say, bigger more hearfelt, deliberate words, but she delivered none, just held him longer, knowing he appreciated actions over words. He reached behind him, put a hand on her head, and took a deep breath. She might not be in Lyria anymore but she was still his diversion. Still a way for him to compartmentalize his wants that didn't fit into the package of his path. He was quick to push on, but he had promised not to leave her behind, had promised to be good to her, and to do that it only made logical sense to be good to himself, he could allow himself that mental loophole. It would take reminding and convincing but it was a fact, a tactic now.  
"Fine." The ways she found her way inside him, the ways she wove her love in subtle gestures and words, it slipped by him some of the time, he thought she might not even have noticed all of it herself. But it just reinforced in small increments that they needed each other to get through, no more than that. _'More than fine.'_

The bath itself was more than fine, loosening knotts he either willfully or subconsciously had been ignoring. He would have to thank Jaskier for pushing so hard, not outright though that would just go to his head, I told you sos till the ends of the earth. Something more subtle, perhaps after Temeria, the next blood and guts monster they faced he'd give the bard those details the witcher was normally so stingy with. _'Hopefully it's not a noon wraith, he's bored with those. We could find harpies, he got a kick out of them last time. Winged women on a scenic cliffside right in his wheel house.'_ Geralt realized two things in quick sucession. The first being he never really thought of after, he was always plotting the matter at hand and by the time after arrived, there was a new matter. Even less frequently did he think of hypothetical possibilities like this, of things he'd prefer if he did ponder hypotheticals it was always based on facts devoid of personal opinion. Perhaps this was the imagination Jaskier had been toting earlier. What else could come after? And he let silly hypotheticals run through his head until the second realization hit. He had been allowed to ponder these afters for moments on end in uninterrupted silence. _'Where's Jaskier?'_ He stood out of the bath with a grumble. Letting the small change in his person go unchecked and unchallenged, the witcher could imagine after.

"Anima?!"  
"Jaskier?" Anima dunked her body lower in the water but craned her face up to find the bard.  
"Don't worry, I'm not looking."  
"Jaskier you may not be looking at me but you are looking." She watched as he waved and winked at some nearby baths.  
"I wish to live Anima, but not a life with out pleasantries."  
"Well I know you're fully capable of gawking and gabbing. How can I help you? Are we leaving?" She had lost count of time, no idle chit chat, just soaking alone, no one wishing to share water with a mutant.  
"No I wanted to talk to you alone. A difficult task with you two attached at the hip like you are."  
"Fair. What's on your mind?"  
"You didn't love Geralt before you had sex did you?"  
"I. . . What?! Jaskier is this for song material? I may be more open and easy going with my goings on than Geralt, but not _that_ easy going."  
"Lets say it's not." For once Jaskier did not elaborate.  
"Lets say it's not." Anima nodded, Jaskier had more than earned a little blind trust, a little leeway. "I was infatuated with Geralt from the start but in love no."  
"Ah infatuated the coward's love." Jaskier snorted.  
"There are degrees of care Jaskier not just hate and love. Those scorned by both are a tad more hesitant to travel to either extreme."  
"And after? Were you more than infatuated after?" Jaskier was not prepared for the audible scoff that followed that question.  
"Jaskier I don't know if you remember but after Geralt and I had sex he disappeared before the sun, ditching you and me. I didn't see him for months, it didn't exactly send me head over heels. Sure the infatuation grew, confirmed he was just as easy on the thighs as he was on the eyes but if you asking if sex with Geralt has some love spell properties you've missed the mark. I fell in love with Geralt over time, sorry that it's so typical and mundane of a tale."  
"What about in Kaer Morhen? After a night spent with him there did you feel different?"  
"What's with the sudden fascination with our sex life Jaskier? Are you . . . do YOU want to have sex with Geralt? Test out your magical penis theroy?"  
"Unless your opinion on threesomes has warmed that isn't exactly an option. I just . . . was trying to figure if relations with a witcher-"  
"So formal. What do you want to know Jaskier? I'm an open book." Anima chuckled, she could tell Jaskier was treading cautiously, something not in his nature and she was doing her best to be supporting, approachable, a friend to talk to.  
"If they're different. Make you feel different. Not for a song just . . . inquisitive mind you know?" He added for emphasis.  
"Well hmm, maybe I guess, again not in a magical way but witchers rarely get chances to be vulnerable. You're never more vulnerable then lying naked under the gods gazes. So I get to know Geralt more and more each time, fall in love with him more and more each time. You don't have to tell me exactly what you're after Jaskier but I have a feeling-" She was inturupted by a discusted scoff and an opening door.  
"Ugh the viper eyed hell raiser on the otherside of the door is bad enough. They let a freak spoil the baths themselves." A repulsed glare held on her.

"Not everone has such an inquisitive mind on mutants Jaskier. Hand me a towel?" Once offered she wrapped herself and she made her way to a changing room.  
"Keep in mind what that woman can't Jaskier." Anima started as she got dressed. "Not all mutants are cut from the same cloth. I wouldn't call me an expert on Geralt and even less so on witchers in general." She popped out and watched as Jaskier thought for a moment.  
"Right. Well lets find our viper eyed hell raiser shall we?"

Geralt wasn't hard to find, if he wasn't deliberately hiding he stuck out like a sore thumb. Leaning against the wall staring at the woman's coridor's door. Geralt saw absolute terror written in Jaskier's face. "Don't worry I have no time for gossip, I've been tuning you two out long enough. Can I get my armor back?"  
"Tuning us out?" Relief flooded over the bard's face.  
"Do I need to be concerned?" Geralt pushed out of his lean, mock intimidation directed at Jaskier, mock or not it still sent a shiver.  
"No."  
"Then I don't have the time nor care to eavesdrop. I respect you Jaskier, trust you but your choices, actions and words are of your world not mine. Can we please go?"  
"Yeah, yeah. What would the world do if the white wolf took the whole day off." And Jaskier began leading the way.

"Didn't eavesdrop? Not even a little?" Anima was skeptical, for a man with night vision Geralt had a hard time being left in the dark.  
"Infatuated from the start?" His smirk was so bright it almost looked like a real smile. He continued on. "Ours is a mundane typical tale?"  
"How wonderful is that?" Anima leaned her head on his shoulder, a beaming smile all her own.  
"It's something." Only they could have found such a description of a love as a truly remarkable. "Though it hurts my pride it didn't send you head over heels." He laid a kiss atop her forehead.  
"Not that precious pride of yours."  
"I'll boost it somehow just keep that awful bed roll of yours packed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might go straight to Temeria, might take a smut pit stop on the road, not sure what I'd rather do.


	10. From the begining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before a fight it's good to get in some practice but can Anima take the blows? Can Geralt take watching it? Can Jaskier pick a side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one but honestly it's gettin long because between playing the game and writing this, the witcher's kind of been my distraction from all the . . . everything that's going on. So it might be a long road to the end but I atleast hope it's an interesting one.

“Cemetaur.” He felt as she mapped out the landscape of scars on his back, barely touching a spot bellow his right lung. Her fingers were still shaking, despite the rain’s best efforts those fingers still held an odor of Nekker blood to them.  
“This one was here? I don’t remember one being here Geralt.” Her voice was detached and vapid, but the speed of her words was more in line with panic. He wasn’t sure if she had fully come out of the void, if she was entirely awake, he was at the distinct disadvantage that he couldn’t see her eyes to shed any light one way or the other.  
“Witch Hunter in a bar fight, you’ve already been over that one.” He grumbled, he’d give her all the patience he had, but it was not an endless supply. “They’ve been there, Anima. They’ve all been there. It was a nightmare Anima or a . . . illusion.” Tricks of the mind and spirit did nothing but frustrate him, what foul luck he had to get entangled with an empath whose whole being beckoned for such things. “What happened?” Reaching his hand over his shoulder he clasped it over her’s. “From the beginning Anima. What happened? Who is Spider?”

The beginning wasn’t long after the bathhouse. Not long after Geralt had stated if the weather held out, which if the howling winds he kept remarking on were any indication, it would not, they’d be able to push through to Old Vizima by sundown. That howling wind brought their smell to him. “Alghouls. Stay here.” He hopped off roach with a grumble of annoyance that they were being slowed down yet again. He had seen this dozen if not hundreds of times before. Battlefields littered with the dead, Aghouls picking at the dying. This scene was different in a few distinct ways, and as he sliced through muscle and bone, the differences distracted him from the repetition. This wasn’t a battlefield it was a slaughter. These weren’t solider’s fighting for brothers and banners but lambs, defenseless women. Most were struck down by the ever hungry necrophages, some clipped down by wolves. Another smell was the final difference, a familiar smell of a familiar mutagen, not that of a witcher, one that held almost the non-scent of glass. _‘An empath.’_ This all proved a bit too much of a distraction, gave the rotfiend the chance to sneak up. He caught it in time but in time was never fast enough when it came to those noxious time bombs. The blast sent him to the field floor, left him nose to nose with her, some artfully maneuvered prank from the gods if you believe in that sorts of thing. He saw her, bloody, missing limbs. Her eyes, unreadable, linen white, no last emotion lingering there. He blinked and for a fraction of a second her face changed, for a fraction of a second it was Anima’s corpse staring at him. That’s all it took for him to jump to his feet, half in horror and half in rage with some terrible shout to match. Anything stirring he mowed down in convincing fashion and then, he burned it all. Stamina depleted from him he continued on. Panting on the edge of gasping he willed it again and again, pouring Igni from a burning palm in an attempt to keep that image from burning into his head. Till he could see nothing but smoke, smell nothing but soot, heard nothing but snaps and sizzles. Till he felt nothing but the burn, deep in every muscle, his bones, through to his lungs, up to his head scorching at his heart. Eventually he fell to his knees, exhaustion and smoke inhalation can get the best of even a witcher on a warpath.  
“Geralt?”

They did hang back at first. It really was a common occurrence, aghouls honestly were more an obstacle than a threat and only became the later if Anima or Jaskier wandered too close. Even when it took slightly longer than usual, they stayed put. Their path had been bumpy and uneven, perhaps it was taking Geralt a bit more maneuvering to cut down the feral beasts. Even when there was an explosion they waited. You didn’t have to have a witcher’s nose to detect a rotfiend, and while more of a threat it wasn’t something terribly outside of their brand of normal. When they heard Geralt yell out angrily, at first they thought he was frustrated, he had wanted to make it to old Vazima by day’s end and this was slowing them down exponentially. Then there was fire, at this point they were getting a bit curious, a bit concerned. A dignified cremation of some corpses was not uncommon, but the extent, the longevity of the flames, that’s what bred worry. “Anima you know he’s got it under control. You’re just over reacting.” Jaskier stated, trying to remain cool and calm but was betrayed by his own feet following her towards the flames.  
“He’s the one over reacting.” There was the inferno she saw and the one she felt. Anger, guilt, fear all in such blistering intensities coming straight from his heartbeat. “Geralt?!” She coughed, holding a hand over her nose and mouth as she squinted into the blaze. Geralt was there, in the middle of the charcoaled earth, kneeling next to the only other body that had not succumbed to incineration.

The fire was dying but the witcher wasn’t moving, almost frozen. “What the hell’s gotten into you? Come on.” She ran over, fully out of breath by the time she reached him, the smoke was the real danger. She tugged at a shoulder to get his attention. He glanced up at her, a soot covered face filled at first with shock, then with realization and lastly with uncertainty, a hard day’s work for a mug that normally held stoic. His eyes studied her, planted her in his mind as not a figment of his imagination and then drifted over to the other empath.  
“Freshest have been dead for near a week.” Those words should have absolved him of the guilt, but the woeful hiss of the words clearly pointed that they had no such healing property.  
“Smells it.” Jaskier was careful with his footsteps not sure what used to be plant, human or animal. “Are you alright Geralt? What happ . . . oh.” And Jaskier saw her, more importantly saw the eyes that gave her away. _‘That could’ve been Anima.’_ He could see the parallels that had driven Geralt to literally flaming rage. “Did you know her?” Jaskier’s tone wasn’t guilty but it was sad, maybe even mournful. Anima looked between the two men then down at the girl and she shrugged. “Maybe . . . looks like a girl that . . . she liked to make people laugh, less awful than most I guess.” All interest in her fellow empath died in that statement, it wasn’t a eulogy it was a brief observation. “So many of them. What was that technique, it can’t just be a bare connection it’s . . .”  
“Anima. What should we do with her? I know you knew her but the mutagen-” Geralt was a bit taken aback by the dismissal. Anima was polite and welcoming with most people she met, people she hardly knew, and when pressed didn’t like very much. She had shared possible years with this person, and she could barely spare time to look at her.  
“I didn’t **know** her. If she stayed there long enough, she probably didn’t even know herself. It wasn’t like Kaer Morhen Geralt it was . . .” And her mind flashed back to the manor, she didn’t **know** anyone there, that was the whole point. To be no one, nothing, just a reflection. If you could be seen or known you could be manipulated, driven mad by other mad folks. You held your pulse, you kept tabs that you atleast in a literal sense existed, and that kept you as such. “Irrelevant. I mean you’ve burnt everyone else to a crisp. Least she could be treated like everyone else just once I guess.” She almost got sad, almost felt grief but there wasn’t time, she pressed past. “I can only . . . what four at a time? How many are here? Near thirty and these were the stragglers. Back then had to be more. If I did it before I could counter . . . like with the sisters. Is it that potion or . . .”  
“Don’t be stupid Anima.” Geralt’s ear finally caught onto what she was rambling about. If this other empath was bringing them, she could unhook them, send them back. “Anima you know what it does to you.”  
“I Know. I also know I have more of it than him. He might have finer tuning, but I have more fire power. I just . . . . He’s doing something I’m not, something that eases the pain. He has to unless . . .” The unless was simple, unless she was too weak, her control too flimsy, her threshold pitiful. Geralt was strong, stronger than most witchers, because the world needed him to be but his skills didn’t apply here, her’s did, she needed to step up.  
“I won’t watch you tear yourself to shreds Anima. We’re close, we’ll bring the fight to them alright? We-“  
“And how many Aghoul bellies will fill in that time Geralt? And what if he’s got an estate filled with brainwashed women? I won’t watch your hand get forced. Have you tear them to shreds, I won’t have you made a butcher twice. Empaths like them, they’re cruel, clinically uncaring. These were people Geralt, you know that, I know that, and that empath will use any care of that against us. You don’t have to watch. Don’t ask, don’t follow. I can do this, I have to do this.” She was firm and absolute, any sign of hesitancy and there’d be no way he’d see merit to her argument.

“You don’t have to.” Geralt was at a loss, he didn’t know how to navigate this. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe. On the other hand they had been reacting for so long, had suffered loss of time and energy because of it. Tactically it made sense, to act, to be on the offensive. He was tactical first and foremost and anything short of that she’d view as unwelcomed codling.  
“Not here, the death lingering can’t be good for . . . . wherever it is you go.” This was delaying, buying time, Jaskier was good at thinking on his feet, he was born to be a distraction. “You said there’s a potion that could be made? To help? I happen to know someone, good friend of mine who carries around all assortments of alchemy oddities, what would you need for this potion of yours?” Jaskier was taking Anima’s hand in his, swinging it like they were on a park stroll, away from the ashes, away from the death, just out of earshot as Geralt torched the last corpse. The sound of broken glass and guts was not something Anima needed to hear. “I mean if it has an ingredient that has somehow not found it’s way into Roach’s saddle bags I’m sure Geralt would go looking for it. He does a fair bit of fetching. For you he’d catch a moon beam.” The bard winked, he was more than a distraction, he was a double agent. Geralt would have them waste more time, desperate to keep his two helpless companions safe from any danger. Strain every muscle to fight a fight that simply wasn’t his, to keep them out of the fray. Those same helpless companions would have to outsmart the witcher, have to protect him from his insatiable need to protect.

“You’ve chastised me for sending Geralt on goose hunts before.” Anima was skeptical, Jaskier would always take Geralt’s side over hers. He frequently called her a sadist for how she sent Geralt scrounging for emotions or words. What had changed, what made him believe her intentions were heartfelt now?  
“Because there was never an actual goose. It was always for an artistic interpretation of a goose. Geralt can’t use his senses to track down a feeling.” He couldn’t fight them either, but Anima could. “But.” And Jaskier spun on his heels pointing at Geralt who was rubbing some of that aforementioned soot from his face. “Geralt will find whatever you need for your-“  
“Stammelfold’s philtre.”  
“That’s a witcher poition.” Geralt shook his head, absolutely not.  
“It’s only a witcher potion if a witcher drinks it. You lot aren’t the only ones who drink poisons labeled as potions for a boost. Have any lying around?” She knew he didn’t, it was meant to help with magic, in witcher’s signs, in empaths a less burdensome entry into the void. Geralt barely bothered with potions that enhanced his physical being which he trusted let alone dabbling into those that touched on more ethereal notes.  
“No.”  
“Can you make some?” Anima watched for his response. Would that make a difference, would it feel less like he was shifting his burden onto her if he had something to keep him busy? Would he feel more in control?  
“It drains at your vitality. What do you get in return?”  
“Easier entry and a firmer hold on the white. Vitality isn’t a big price to pay, when your foes aren’t physical. Everything drains from something.”  
“And the toxicity?” Geralt knew there was something not right, something being omitted. Jaskier looked far too pleased with himself. “Why haven’t you been taken it all along if there’s no downside?”  
“One I don’t use my powers enough to justify throwing coin that I don’t make, at ingredients I don’t need. Two it puts me to . . . for time’s sake, sleep. Lucid dreams and magical emotional shifts, I can stay where the world goes white longer, but it’s keen to remind me why I don’t.”

This all solicited not a wink but a glare from Jaskier. Just because he wasn’t speaking didn’t mean he wasn’t heard loud and clear. _‘You were supposed to send him after something he didn’t have, give you time to run off and do your spooky magic.’_ Anima’s eyes brushed off the glare at first, lingering on Geralt for a moment. He was silently and thoughtfully filtering through saddle bags, pulling out all manners of roots, leaves, eyeballs, organs, scales and stones. Her eyes widened at what appeared to be a half rotten monster tongue crudely wrapped in cloth. Looking back at Jaskier she gestured with raised brows as it hit the pile with a squish.

 _‘What that he doesn’t have Jaskier? Where on the continent would you like me to out run the White Wolf?’_ Geralt’s eccentric collection was not the crux of it though. He was hesitantly entertaining the idea and what a cruel time to try and pull one over on him. Cradling the ingredients needed in his arms he sat down, scanning them with scrutiny, she could see the war on his conscience.

He didn’t want her to attempt this, he was still very stitched into the ideal that he was at his base a protector and she was one of the few people he chose to protect, free of charge. “Alchemy is one thing. Eyeballing is another. Your body can’t take the same concentration mine can.” He was coming to grips with it though. There were things in this world he could, try as he like, not protect her from, some of those things were built by the same means as her. For worse or better the mutagens in Anima could, if given the chance, do what he couldn’t, protect from a distance he couldn’t reach, a place not on her shitty map. This was a battle of control and identity. If he took these facts as what they were and thus gave up the notion that they relied on him as the sole protector of the group, it was a free fall. He would have to trust their words, their actions, he would have to trust that emotional bonds weren’t as fickle as they seemed. That they held just as strong as primal self-preservation. He cared too much, wagered to lose too much to blindly trust. Anima knew this, as always she would help him filter through all these pesky feelings. His eyes shot up to her almost daring her to convince him as he started slicing and portioning.

“Half then?” Jaskier sat next to Geralt, watching in mild disgust at the crunching and squishing of it all. “Anima are you sure you’ll be able to stomach this?”  
“Well lets see. I don’t exactly have an empath’s guide to alchemy handy, so we’ll have to use deductive reasoning. Make a watered down version, then Geralt you’ll have to try it first, we’ll see how you feel-“  
“Hmm.” This wasn’t terribly convincing, it was still an unappealing gamble. Even if he diluted it to the point he didn’t feel a thing, it could still very well be too toxic for her. It tugged, at everything he knew, to put risk and and strategic faith on someone not trained at Kaer Morhen.  
“Even a tingle we’ll have to scrap the idea outright. One shot, anything more would be a waste of time.” Anima was not a sadist, not matter how often Jaskier liked to taut the opposite. She found no joy in watching Geralt grapple and squirm in his skin. She was putting balance back where is it was lacking, giving him a firm out, all control he thought he was losing she was placing firmly back in his grasp. “I want you spry and of clear mind as you can be for it to work.” She sat at Geralt’s other side. Closing her eyes as her head rested on his shoulder, running a thumb along the inside of her wrist, she would be patient, there was no push here. “Jaskier who’s your coin on? Who can find four nonhuman heartbeats first? Marginally sentient for bonus points. An empath’s sight or a Witcher’s hearing?” This wasn’t even a wager worth having, she smirked, feeling the slight crane of Geralt’s neck as his ears perked.  
“Hmm?” Was she making a game of this? This was no joke. “Nonhuman heartbeats?” He grumbled out after throwing back the test potion. It was warm, unfiltered and putrid, it fought it’s way down but it died in his gut. It didn’t churn and buzz at every fiber, he didn’t get that hazy light headed feeling that accompanied the toxicity, but there was a tingle, he had his out. He could call it off with zero blame being put on his overprotectiveness, she had set these near impossible stipulations.

“He’s using humans, it’s the easiest way . . . for anything. Humans are easy vessels, standard fair”  
“Hey.” Jaskier wasn’t sure if he needed to be offended but figured better safe than sorry.  
“Sorry. He’s sewing seeds, stretching the roots.”  
“Enchantingly vague.” He pointed out to non-empaths that phrase was less than illuminating.  
“It’s how he’s got so many. Directly connected to just a handful, the seeds, they take the brunt of the stretch. Connecting to the others, tethering the roots. It’s more tedious, a bit more uncomfortable with nonhumans connecting can be-“  
“Like with me.” Geralt’s eye’s grew dark as his mind flooded with images of her gasping, clawing at her chest as she held a witcher’s hearbeat. He should stop this, it was not like him to repeat mistakes.

“And if I lose control of one, I need you to keep it from sinking it’s teeth into me Geralt.” It was becoming quite the to do list for the witcher. He could see it for what it was, trivial control, a distraction. “Feel anything?” That question wasn’t trivial though, that control was absolute, and it was all his.  
“I did.” He sloshed the remaining liquid around in the vial, he could just pour it out onto the grass.  
“Ok.” Anima nodded, she wouldn’t stop him, this wasn’t a trick, this was trusting his judgement.

“Settled then? We move on?” Jaskier questioned because he had to. Minutes had passed and Geralt kept staring at the vial and Anima hadn’t moved from her place, eyes closed, resting on Geralt’s shoulder. “Weather will turn soon.” He added when no answer came.

“Thunder.” Geralt glanced up at the greying sky. Another bad omen, a condition that he could use to rationalize moving on and leaving Anima’s plan at the roadside. “Ears win. Nekkers to the west.” He handed over the vial, trusting in her judgement.  
“You cheated. I didn’t know we had started.” Anima clenched her already closed eyes harder, pinched her nose and swallowed down the blackish red fluid before Geralt could reconsider.  
“You’re hardly playing fair.” Geralt grabbed her cheeks in his hand, watching for the first signs of the potion taking effect. “Anima?” Her eyes jolted open, her jaw clenched shut. This was not a tickle, it started as a twitch then bloomed into spasms, her muscles started to jerk and flex, her mouth began to foam. “Fuck.” He uncorked the white honey he had kept close just in case. Before he could put it to her bluing lips he heared them. _‘The Nekkers.’_ He placed Anima against the grass and unsheathed silver. “Fuck. Jaskier watch her.”

“Know of subtlety? Borish barbarians the lot. . . Empath for . . . megaphone for a howler . . . just as . . .” Whatever nightmare she was falling into they were only getting bits and pieces from clenched teeth. The seizing was softening, her head fluttering side to side in Jaskier’s lap, less violent, more restless.  
“Anima?” Geralt held his breath, pushing panic from his head, allowing himself a second to make sure he could hear her heartbeat, it was clunky and pattering but it wasn’t dying, she was fighting.  
“Fill it . . . built from stock . . . won’t break as easy.” There was a lively laugh, if they had been blind it would have seemed like a little throw away chuckle. “Find the compliment.”  
“I told her that.” Jaskier added a humored scoff to the air. “You idiots do listen.” He smiled, finding his own compliment in that fact as he brushed some hair from Anima’s face. “Ooof” A bottle thumped against his chest.  
“When I tell you to give that to her you do it.” Geralt hadn’t even turned to look at them just reached back and blindly, eyes still scanning for the nekkers, handed the potion over. Watching Anima writhe and claw like a drowner out of water had not suddenly become any more a tolerable sight, if he let himself catch a glance he would cave and fall back on his need to keep her out of harms way. it would all have been for nothing. What they had achieved would fade from the ether. She could fight and still need him to protect her, she would still ask him for that, trust him to do so. While he kept her body safe, she could wage a battle beyond his scope. He could respect her abilities instead of wishing them from existence, he could trust them. They could balance being, not just be lovers from opposite sides of the coin.

\--The White--  
These nightmares, or memories depending on where your opinion on Anima’s consciousness laid, served a dual purpose. Firstly, it was the easiest way to tap into an emotion, empath or not. To bring the Nekkers to her she simply thought back and held to a memory of longing. A scared young girl bought from the Isles only to hear that she was a redundant novelty among masterful puppeteers. In that vulnerable moment she longed to be what the dismissed as an impossibility, she longed to be useful. If that meant all the glass, all the pain, training till her head burst, forgetting anything that made her Skelligan, so be it. She had no family, no friends, that put her in the same boat as everyone in the manor but what she longed for was the time and faith, the future that was was promised to the others.

\--The physical—  
“Huh?” Four Nekkers stopped, just as she had stated, right in their tracks, screeching wildly, but they paused. Geralt walked back to Anima, not looking as he sat, a wall between her and them. He stared into the distance, because where there was four Nekkers there was surely more. As rain began to fall Geralt just waited, it was his turn to stay back and let her work.

\--The White—  
She had to calm the Nekkers or else they’d be of no use at all. Calm was one of her go tos, she didn’t need to conjure a memory to feel it, to make others feel it. What she did need the memory for, it’s secondary purpose, was trying to figure out who this other empath was. So instead of fond memories of Lyria, or even fresh memories from the road she went in search of calm back in the manor.

They were lying in the snow, to cool off fevers and reduce swelling. The newest members sobbing in pain and delusion. She didn’t scream or cry anymore, just listened to the crunch of snow, focused all her energy on it. A pleasing light sound tucked amongst the heavy bleak sounds of teens going mad, being sliced from the inside out. “They think you’re dead Geas.” A voice above her drowned out sounds both heavy and light. She went to open her mouth, to speak up but was scolded quiet. “Can feel your heartbeat, know you’re living but they think you’re dead. Get it?” She pressed her face sideways, into the snow, she didn’t need the chastising tone, not now. She focused back on the pleasant crunch, the cold. She couldn’t be bothered with anything else, too tired, too heavy for anything else. Honestly all this breathing in and out was becoming a monotonous chore. She had understood his words. They thought her hearty body had held through another implant but her feeble brain or her barbarian’s attempt at a soul had finally given out under the pressure of high class elder magic. She wasn’t insulted, the longing to be useful had pandered out years ago, she couldn’t be bothered. Truly she didn’t know what she was living for, longing for anymore, perhaps solely existing out of spite. Maybe her mind had broken, and she hadn’t bothered to notice. Was she just a frame holding glass? As the thoughts came and went something stuck at her. He had said her name: Geas. She had been Isler or Animal for years now, everyone had forgotten her name. Did this person care to remember? No, this was the manor, no one cared. They wanted something from her and were trying to appeal to any part of her that still registered as human. It had been a while since someone had wanted something from her. As he leaned closer to her face she bothered to turn her eyes to him, he had her interest. “They’re waiting for the others to snuff out and then they’ll extract it. Don’t you think that will hurt Geas?” He had wanted to see fear and was a bit miffed when he was met with nothing but indifferent acknowledgement.  
“If I’m not dead, surely kill me.” She murmured into the melting snow, unable to manage a shrug.  
“Wouldn’t it be easier? On you? On all of us if you were dead?”  
“Hmm” She mulled it over, again not insulted by the implication. The snow was numbing her body, she could just let her mind numb out. The extraction would hurt, would likely kill her but would that be any harder than breathing in and out like this for all eternity?  
“Could be dead. Sure, why not. Send you to be the nagl in the coffin Spider?” She assumed they wagered she only needed a small push, that insulted her slightly, but not enough to bother truely. What did he want? What could she do to get him to stop talking and just let her listen to the snow again?  
“You could be dead somewhere else, couldn’t you?”  
“Somewhere else? Where? Why?” She’d do it, she’d die somewhere else. What did he want? It was driving her mad. She just wanted her quiet snow back, winter was so short, she only got this sound so often.  
“I want what’s here.” Either hearing or sensing her impatience he gave a grab at her newest incision, pulling a huff of pain into the puddle by her mouth. “I don’t want to share.”  
“Not here? Not now?” He could pull it from her, she was in no state to fight back. She didn’t want it anyway, and cared little for those who did, for whatever means. The world had no use for her, if Spider wanted to go drunk with power how did that affect her in any way?  
“Webs Geas.” Spider was a nickname given because his manipulations were long, drawn out, elaborate for elaborateness’s sake.  
“Sure.” She’d go along with his plan, whatever it was. Breathing was a chore, such a chore, having any goal would be a nice distraction, nice like the snow. It would mean no more winters though, no more snow, she vaguely felt bothered by that. “Then what?” Better not to think too hard on it.  
“They’ll come to take you home, and you’ll go. When I’m ready for them I’ll take them.”  
“Till you come?” His webs were long, it could be days, weeks, years till he came for the shards of glass.  
“Find something to pass the time. It doesn’t matter. You don’t matter.”  
“Play dead, play living, simple enough a tirth could do it. Go on, I’d like to hear the snow before we both melt away.” She closed her eyes, listening as his footsteps made those satisfying crunches. She smiled, the vague bother was gone, the cool calmness overrode it. Spider had fallen into her long-woven trap, so long she had all but forgotten it herself. They all believed her to be a backwater idiot, and she had given them just that. A malleable peon, a grunt that followed direction but was nothing special, nothing that mattered. She’d be what they wanted to get what she needed, the hell out of this hall of mirrors under the guise of not being bright enough to be a threat. The price for freedom seemed fair at the time.  
“Don’t forget Geas, everything you have belongs to me.” The price was always being one step ahead of Spider, until she was content to let him collect. She could travel with the snow, chase the sound, remain calm forever.

\--The physical—  
“Not dead . . . surely kill me.” Jaskier was wiping sweat and rain water from Anima’s contorted face. Time was growing long and with it the bard was growing worried.  
“Geralt?” He wanted this to be over, the potion Geralt had trusted him with, that would wake her up right?  
“Sure why not. Send you . . . Nagl in the coffin Spider?” Her breaths were growing larger, her words had more stutter to them.  
“Geralt?!” Jaskier noticed one of the Witcher’s eyes finally shot over to them. There was worry, anger and shock all written in the wayward glance, and none of it sat well with Jaskier.  
 _‘Nagl what a weird . . . she’s not from the continent.’_ He didn’t have time to dwell on that tidbit. He grimaced, her heartbeat was all out of rhythm, clunky and painful sounding. Nekkers couldn’t be that easy to hold, especially a group of them. “Give her a chance Jaskier.” Geralt chopped down a handful of beasts attracted by the sounds of Anima’s distress.  
“Play dead . . .play living . . . simple. Tirth could . . . Go on . . . Like to hear the snow . . . we both melt.”  
“Geralt!” Maybe he wasn’t hearing the same words. “She’s talking an awful lot of death!” Jaskier knew Geralt was torn and lent towards giving in when Animia was adamant about something, but there was caving to whims and signing death certificates.  
“Jaskier give . . . Wait” Something else was coming through the tree line, not Nekkers, women, running, crying, begging to go home. Wailing women draws attention, and Geralt had to defend them from becoming that attention’s dinner.

\--The White—  
Fully nestled in the heartbeats of the Nekkers she could branch out, find the women, get them free, get them to go home, away from Spider. She no longer needed the memories, but she had dug too deep, they avalanched onto her all the same. Dimun raiders came inland for her, she wasn’t part of their clan but they looked enough the part for those at the manor. People died, buildings burned and the Islenders left with her presumed comatose body. They were supposed to take her straight back to the Isles but snow had turned to sleet, to rain to a full-blown storm. A memory within a memory, the terrible journey to the continent had made her sea sick at the thought. She never wanted to sail on another ship as long as she lived, rocking waves, terrible sirens, it was overload of the worst kind. What was back in Skellige for her anyway? Why not run somewhere else? It had to snow elsewhere didn’t it? She made a run for it, if they had chased her it hadn’t been with much vigor. Trouble was she didn’t know where to go. She didn’t care where, or when she got there. After years of not caring about anything, it had appeared she’d forgotten how. She just went, till her legs gave out, till her mind finally buckled, till she lost consciousness.

When she woke her shoulder hurt, her face was scrape to hell, she smelled all over of dried mud. “You’re alive! When I saw your eyes I thought you were dead I . . . well then I saw you were breathing.”  
“I am.” In and and out, in and out, she was still breathing. She was in a bed, there was a girl in the room with her, that girl was smiling. Why was she smiling like that? What did she want? “Who are you?” She groaned as she sat up, her head was throbbing.  
“Me? I’m Thill. I saved you, brought you here. I had lost my favorite hair pin walking home and I had to find it, ran out in the rain and all. Never found my hair pin, but I found you.” There was a lot of words there, but what did she want? Did Thill want her to find her hair pin? No, that was backwards logic.

“Saved me?” She had saved herself, Thill had found her, there was a difference. Wanted to think herself a hero? Everyone wants a bit of that. Simple enough, what harm could it do. “Guess you did.” Thill’s smile absolutely exploded, that smile wasn’t malicious like those in the manor, it was pleasing, as good as the crunching snow, a suitable distraction from the breathing. “Where is . . . here exactly?”  
“It’s a little town in L . . . Ahhh!” Lightning struck and the smile had fled, lips pursed in fear in it’s stead. That could be fixed, no point in forgetting all she learned, this junk in her veins might as well be used for something. She attached to the girl, even frightened there was an undercurrent of almost giddiness to Thill.  
“You’re fine.” She watched the smile creep back up and that made her happy, or maybe connecting to Thill had, it didn’t matter, being happy was a nice change. “So where are we?”  
“Er . . . tucked in Lyria.” Thill seemed to be thinking something behind that smile, that was more like what she was accustomed to, thinking, plotting, scheming.  
“What?” She asked a bit to brash, but she tried a smile all her own, a vacant hollow one, but it was effortless and it smoothed Thill over, it did the trick.  
“Well it’s sort of a brothel . . . well more of an Inn! We’re decent people. A family really, just of an unconventional sort. Thom and Janis treat all the girls right but we all have to keep fed and bed somehow right? Don’t know bout you but I don’t have very many skills and I’d die out there alone. You’re young like me, most the other girls have been here a while, they’re nice just got their own lives going on.” Thill seemed to be making some sort of rushed case, and not a terribly concise one. Did she want her to join this bizarre family of hers? Was she indebted to this whorehouse now? Is that how they snare you? By having some doe eyed blonde ‘save’ you?

“I have to stay?” She needed some context here, what exactly did Thill want?  
“You don’t have to do anything. You can’t stay for free, but you can stay if you’ve got nowhere else to go. The wayward ones make a home of it here.” There was a man in the room now. Was he looking for a whore? He was too old to be having sex with Thill, or her rightfully but she was on borrowed time, Thill still had life left. She could give this man what he wanted and keep Thill’s smile the way it was, pure like the snow, easy fix. “Thom.” So the Inn owner then, was he really just looking for a fresh face at his ‘Inn’? “And you are?”  
“G-“ Simple question with a simple answer, her parents had named her Geas, but she barely even resembled her parent’s child anymore, hadn’t in years. “Anima-“The manor called her Animal because she had no specialty, nothing that made her anything beyond a mutated creature. She wasn’t in the manor anymore though. She was no longer Geas, didn’t want to be Animal but she hadn’t cared to think what she wanted to be.  
“Anima’s a unique name. Must be an Isle one. Can tell from your accent. Never met a Anima before.” Thill’s smile was infectious and her words pleasant, if this was a snare it was a delightful one. Why not? Until she figured out what she wanted, why not make a goal out of keeping Thill’s smile on her face. If she gave these people what they wanted, she could stay, make a home here. Spider would come for what she had eventually, what a final dig it would be if she had nothing but a whorehouse to call home, it’s occupants the only recipients of her abilities. She could take her last breath when the time came, knowing she had squandered what the manor cherished more than life itself.

\-- The Physical—  
“Now Jaskier!” Geralt noticed because he always noticed. Even as he worked to keep the beasts away from the women running from the woods, he had kept an eye on the four Nekkers that mattered. They hadn’t moved but they were growing restless.  
“Saved me?” Anima’s voice sounded tired, struggling to project, her mouth was moving but words were fewer and farther in-between. “Have to stay?”  
“There’s still-“ Jaskier could see still more women coming from the tree line.  
“Now!” He had really grown an ear for it, he could hear her heartbeat, this was the point where she started to lose control. Jaskier heeded the second bark, pouring the white honey down Anima’s throat best he could, ignoring the coughs and gags.  
“Sorry, Sorry. Haven’t drown you yet, won’t start now I promise.” He talked them through his panic.  
“Anima.” She sputtered.  
“Enough Anima. Wake up!” Geralt had lost all finesse with his strikes, chopping down the last of what he had to with ugly bothered blows before stomping his way back to them. “Anima?”

\--The White—  
Memories were gone, it was pure nightmares now. Anima was just too deep to appreciate the difference. Around her was, at first, the white void and nothing more. She eventually noticed her hands were bound, some dark purple restraints holding her wrists, tying them to a point that was too far in the distance for her to see. Her back was bare and a whip cracked but while the sound of leather against flesh was unmistakable she felt no pain. Behind her she heard a grunt, the blow had hit someone else, she knew that grunt, she knew that someone else.  
“Geralt?”  
“Staying in one place for so long.” A second crack. “Letting yourself be outed.” A third. “Forgetting how to control your ability.” With each strike a grumbled of pain followed. She glanced over her shoulder to confirm what she already knew. There he was, taking blow after blow on her behalf, for her mistakes. “Needing the witcher to save you.” They kept coming. “Needing the witcher to love you.”  
“Stop it! It’s not his fault. Stop hurting him!”  
“Anima?” Geralt's voice was labored, his breathing heavy and . . . angry.  
“A new name? Not a very clever one. Making them believe you matter. You don’t matter Geas.” It was Spider, he had her tethered her, was torturing her, no, he was torturing Geralt, any nuance was lost on her, the next blow was stronger still.  
“Anima?!” Geralt’s voice was louder, more strained.  
“Running from me.” And there was a whisper from the white, or maybe just an echo behind Spider’s voice, Anima was too distressed to tell.  
“Running from me.”  
“Anima are you alright?” That ached, cored at her heart. As he took a lashing Geralt was still concerned for her, always worried for her.  
“Putting up a fight Geas? You’re no fighter. The pretty witcher will have to continue to bleed on your behalf. This is your fault.” Yet another.  
“Stop! For fuck’s sake don’t hurt him! I’m sorry! I’m sorry you can have it I swear!” She thrashed against her bonds.  
“Fuck off Anima.” That was Geralt’s voice, he was angry with her, blaming her. That was fair, Spider was right, this was her fault. The whip dropped and there were hands at Geralt’s torn back, fingers drawing lines of mock soothing across bloody marks.  
“Don’t worry witcher. I’ll have you soon. I’ll be better for you. You’ll have an equal to fight with.” Spider was laying kisses along the exposed expanse of Geralt’s shoulders.  
“Don’t touch him! Leave him alone! Geralt?”  
“So selfish. I could take the hurt away and you’d deny him that relief.” It was purposefully garish, Spider grabbed at Great’s chin, kissed him, Geralt didn’t lean in but he didn’t have the means nor the energy to fight against it. “Don’t forget Geas, everything you have belongs to me.” He was petting at Geralt’s cheeks.  
“Please Anima.” Geralt’s voice was hurt, unmistakably filled with pain.  
“I . . . I . . .” She pulled and wrenched, trying desperately to get free.  
“Don’t stay still. I hate it when you stay still.” A distant voice sounding of sea shells called out. Then she heard it, it was so close to her, it was better than crunching snow, stronger than Thill’s smile, it was her favorite heartbeat.

\--The Physical—  
“Anima are you alright?” At the first sign of them being released Geralt had killed the Nekkers she had held. She was caked in their blood but that couldn’t be helped. Jaskier had given her the potion near half an hour ago but she wasn’t waking.  
“Stop. Don’t hurt him. I’m sorry . . . Can have . . .Swear.” He voice was growing smaller by the second.  
“Fuck off Anima.” It was a knee jerk anxious reaction to their predicament. She had done well, flocks of women freed but at what cost? Her words sounded like an admittance of defeat. Was this what the nightmares and vague omens had spoken of? Was she giving up? She had promised to tell him when she wasn’t afraid to die.  
“Don’t” A hollow rasp. “Him.” Gulping at air that wasn’t hitting her brain. “Alone.” She was silent for a beat, a long drowning beat. “Geralt?”  
“I’m here Anima.” He scooped her up, held her to his chest, that normally helped right? This was all in her head, the vitality drain from the potion should have been neutralized. She wouldn’t leave him like this would she? “Please Anima.” Open ended questions were not Geralt’s specialty, he had her to help him with those.  
“I . . . I . . .” Her eyes rocketed open, life and absolute dread pierced through the small pupils that were darting everywhere. “Geralt?”  
“Here Anima. I’m here.” She always had trouble placing where she was, who was around her, she was nearly blind in this state. “It’s alright stop . . . stop moving.” She was pushing at him like a mad woman, snaking and stumbling out of his hold, behind him, yanking in the same motion, pulling at his armor.  
“I’m sorry! Geralt I’m sorry he hurt you! I’ll fix it, let me fix it please.” Hysterics were not overly noteworthy but her breathing, she was still half blue, still hardly breathing. “Don’t go to him, don’t let him take you! He can have the glass! I’ve gotten a good run but-“  
“Anima?" Concern was being rocked against anger, she had scolded him for trying to get the mutagen removed and now it was as good as gone? She said it herself it’d kill her and if she thought he’d let her die so easily she really had gone mad in the void. “What are you going on about?” She was all gangly limbs, he finally, in a bid to get her to calm for only a second, relented, undoing the ties and buckles that she had not the dexterity nor the mental capacity of undoing in her berserk state. “I’m not going with anyone.” He let out a long breath, patient, he had to be patient. Anima had no intention of dying, she wouldn’t leave him, but this wasn’t Anima’s conscious mind, this was the ramblings of a woman still half caught in a nightmare. “You aim to keep me right?” He reminded her as he felt his shirt being lifted over his head. “Anima?” He kept calling out to her waiting, with all the patience he could muster, for a lucid response. He felt trembling hands dusting over his back, it nearly tickled.  
“Mistake, selfish mistake. Spider will take you from me, everything I have. I don’t matter . . . fine . . . but not with him Geralt! I know you’re angry but . . .” Lucidity was taking it’s sweet time. “Even if he can take the pain away please! I’m sorry Geralt! What? They’ve already scared?” This wasn’t normal, while the imprint of an emotion would linger for hours, she would at least come to grips with reality after a few minutes.

“Anima whatever you saw wasn’t real. Those scars have been there Anima. You need to calm down.” Between the toxicity she had brushed off earlier, her accelerating heartrate and these unsustainable sobbing breaths, he was worrying she was doing true harm. Being patient wasn’t enough, but he wasn’t sure how to snap her out of this.  
“Been there?” She shook her head. “There’s so many. I saw him. Saw him hurt you.”  
“Trust me they’ve been there, I’ve seen many a girl gawk and fawn just like you over them. That one there, that was no spider bite. That was a tussle with a . . . Eryna right?” Jaskier’s casual words seemed to catch Anima’s frenzied attention. “Am I right or Am I right Geralt? I’ve got notes to prove it Anima. I won’t be called a liar.” Jaskier gave an encouraging nod to Geralt. The bard was speaking as if it was a friendly debate, not speaking someone off a ledge. Then again maybe his flair for the dramatic by nature made this moment readable in a way Geralt didn’t see.  
“It was a Eryina.” He obviously couldn’t see it but he could remember the contract that brought him that scar. So were they just ignoring the fact that Anima was hyperventilating? He had trusted Anima to do her part, he could spare some of the respect he had been promising Jaskier.  
“Well go on. Ask about another Anima, there’s a story to each of them, old stories. Not a spider in the lot . . . wait . . . Well maybe spider like. What was that awful swamp thing eating ox in Novingrad?” He wasn’t dull he knew that the spider Anima was talking about was no insectoid, but she was giving weight to his words, so he had to keep talking.  
“Arachnomorph. Fast fucking beasts.” Geralt could hear her breath, while still far too rapid, at least keep a semblance of rhythm, this was working. The stories flowed, each one distracting her, grounding her. Each scar was explained, once, then second time. By the third loop they could both hear it, fear was turning to exhaustion, her adrenalin petering out, the white was finally fading from her, her fight was coming to it’s end. Geralt stilled her mapping hands. “From the beginning Anima. What happened? Who is Spider?” And after a sigh, she started her exposition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a bit heavy and I think I'll do a lighter chapter to balance it out. I just really got swept up in my character and while I know my character isn't why other people read this, it's where my mind took the story. Lighter more cannon character fronted chapter will come I promise.


	11. Falling with the rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It rains an awful lot up north. There has to be something or someone to do to pass the time.

“Hmm.” When from the beginning came to and end and she had no words left Geralt hitched his arms under her knees and neck. “Jaskier can you get-“  
“Oh now I can touch your armor! No go on, walk shirtless through the rain. Don’t stop peacocking on my accord. Though it should be noted, Anima made sure to send any woman worth impressing running for the hills.” Jaskier rolled his eyes as he lifted everything else not worth leaving behind. They looked of an illustration out of a lecherous romance novel. Glistening in the wet, a triumphant pair, a small victory over evil glowing about them, held together with concern and love. It was nearly sickeningly sweet, sure not to last, but the bard would hold the image in history even if the rest of the world, pair included could not see it.

“Hmm? That’s it?” Anima had divulged an abridged version of her life story, secrets she had held for years and Geralt had no other response other than a humm of acknowledgment that he had in fact been listening.  
“I’ve told you.” He had been patient for her but now that she wasn’t in mortal danger it was apparent how little he had left by the slight annoyance in his voice. “I don’t care what you were made for.” He pulled her face closer and in his looming way, touched his forehead against her knitted brow. “Don’t give two shits what this Spider-“ Even his moniker rang of a displeasing arrogance that made Geralt scoff. “Thinks that he’s owed.” At an acceptable distance from a second field of bodies, he laid her down under a tree. All her thrashing had really done a number on her scarlet mop, he did his best to smooth it away from her face for the umpteenth time but it was heavy with rain and strands kept falling back.

“Say it.” There was a proud smile on Geralt’s face, almost leaning towards boasting, but smiles never lingered in his features, he hid it away, rather pressed it against her, kissing firmly almost playfully.  
“Geralt.” The kiss fought but lost, it was two cheeky smiles pressed stupidly against one another. Light bemusement aside he could feel it, her smile while genuine was struggling to stay. There was still doubt there. Lingering where the world went white, victory or not would not be without it’s stain on her.  
“There’s no one who says it like you Anima. He can want to take me all he likes. I’m not so easily taken.” He gave a tug at the base of her hair, he wouldn’t let the darkness snatch at her especially not when he himself was in a rare mood, one he couldn’t quite pinpoint.  
“Nothing good is easily taken.” She placed an ear against his chest, allowed his heartbeat’s soothing properties hit her, letting out a small sigh. She wanted to calm down, she wanted Geralt and her to have a moment to celebrate a job well done  
but with Geralt not his usual totem of worry she had to take up the mantle.

“Jests aside Geralt he’s no one to-“  
“Hmm." He was over hearing about this jackass. Who was he to say Anima didn’t matter? “He’s a fool.” There was no need to waste words on him.  
“He’s cunning. When he wants something, he gets it.” Who was he to claim all that belonged to her?  
“I won’t allow him Anima. I promised to be good to you. You aim to keep me.” That was a death threat laced in endearments if she ever heard one. Geralt seemed almost oddly relaxed, it warned her not to press, to let him have this moment but what was relaxed now if he was dead later?  
“Geralt when we do find him, it may be best for you to stay back. He might hurt you to-“ And she was silenced by a crushing kiss, speaking all those facts that she clearly wasn’t hearing back to her. Who was Spider to try to sperate them?  
“Together.” It wasn’t a demand, wasn’t a question, it was a statement, it was a fact. He kissed the top of her head.

As she looked up at him he seemed nearly high on all these certainties. That was it, they had finally been on the wining side of something after some loses that he hadn’t forseen. He was back in a place of knowing and it brought him peace, more than that, a buzz of a battle bested had him above peace, had him happy. All this happy energy didn’t fit in with a witcher’s nature, so it settled somewhere between restless and energetic, his face normally stern and frosty had curves of warmth and openness to it. “Help me pitch a tent before you pitch one for Anima?” Jaskier was under his own tree, remaining silent up to this point, just observing. He tried to scowl convincingly at the pair but as someone who loved love it was hard not to smile even just a bit.

Geralt did use some of that buzzed energy to tie up a canopy of sorts, furs, sticks and twine but it would keep the three of them dry enough. The small tent he had was for two, and barely fit him comfortably, perhaps he’d set that up for Jaskier later but he had wanted some manner of task for the here and now. They were still too out in the open for his liking, but he was uninterested in stumbling into a wolf pack or an Aghoul’s nest. Where they were was where they’d stay. Even he was starting to notice, this haze of content. “So Anima can I ask you a question?” Jaskier was sure that he’d be asked to take a walk somewhere, and he would step out in the rain for a bit but he’d do his best to avoid the worst of it.  
“You can ask me several.” She smiled, a bit distracted by the fact Geralt still hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, but listening all the same.  
“You’re from Skellige right?”  
“Originally yes.” It had been decades since she had set foot on the Isles she didn’t know how much she considered herself from there.  
“I’m surprised, I mean usually they have pretty distinct-“  
“Accents? Yeah it took years to shake it! Manor tried all manner of ways to school it oit of me, held fast though. Through lessons, hypnoisis, I had to keep a marble under my tounge for a month-“  
“What?” Geralt knew Anima’s voice, he listened for it even when she wasn’t speaking to him, just to enjoy the sound. He knew it front and back, every pitch and tone possible, he had never even heard the faintest hint of a Isle’s dialect. “And that worked?”  
“Worked to make me hate marbles and lose nine pounds. Try eating soup with a marble in your mouth. It can be done but boy if it doesn’t make a mess. No, Thill was mighty patient, helped that I had a better incentive to try.”  
“Hiding from Spider?” Geralt hadn’t thought it possible but he was liking this Spider character less and less.  
“Sure that. Mostly cause they wanted me to be one of them. I couldn’t be one of them if I was someone else from somewhere else. So I changed, I wasn’t from Skellige anymore, I was Lyrian. Simple as that, no marble needed.”

It was a difficult concept to understand. What she was, who she was, it was all of little concequence to her, that could always change and adapt. So long as that who or what was wanted or needed by those that mattered, that’s where she leant all her worth and credence. Being wanted or needed was paramount, everything else was just dressing. “Anima . . .” Geralt wasn’t sure he wanted to ask this question, unsure what the outcome of her answer would be. “Have you changed for us?” Geralt looked at her, dripping wet, her cloak had stains of blood new and old, she was in the middle of the woods after submerging in a place that she had all but left behind before meeting them. She had changed plenty, she was nolonger a snarky little Lyrian barmaid, anyone could see that. Had it been an organic change? Or had she been contorting herself to become who she thought they needed her to be?  
“Nothing big, like where I’m from or what my name is.” She apparently didn’t see becoming an active empath and a witcher’s travel companion a big change then. “Little things I’ve changed. Become more inclined for small talk, really listening to people.” She nodded over at Jaskier. “Normally I’d zone out of conversations, trusting from the first beat if I heard a word or two I’d know how to continue.” Jaskier wanted someone to talk to, even active listening was not enough, and while a lot about nothing was not her cup of tea, she’d gotten better at trying to hold stimulated conversations with the bard who needed to be heard and spoken to. “I lead instead of followed.”She nodded at Geralt. In endevors both purchased or of a more wholesome nature she had always be inclined to observe and indulge in the wants of her partners. With Geralt, to please him as fully as she deemed he deserved, she'd had to step out of that comfort, be active and unreserved, had to take control. A much more vocal control than anything she would have actively explored by her own devices. "There are little things I haven't changed. I could drink wine." It really did prick at some sense of ettiiquite that Jaskier held, her drink of choice being some cheap black stout. She could just as easily find a taste for Beauclair white. "I could forgo dancing." She smiled at Geralt, she knew that beyond viewing it as a frivilous expenditor of energy sometimes the company she found while dancing alone riled Geralt. She could find a less tempting way to pass her time at the Inn, gwent was off the table but perhaps darts or rather she could sit and brood beside him in whatever corner held the least light. "I can." As she said it outloud she honestly didn't know why she hadn't. They were simple little wants, rooted somewhere sure, but plenty of things had been rooted only to be plucked and made mulch for new more fitting traits.  
"No." Geralt sighed, he didn't understand it, or rather didn't know how to make her understand it. He didn't want her to brood with him or drink hauety wines with Jaskier, he wanted her to have things that were just her. "Change if you like Anima." He had no desire to beat a dead horse. "But only if you like. Not out of some fool's fever dream that we'll leave you."  
"Is that what you think friends are Anima?" Jaskier's tone leaned too far towards pity and Anima cringed as it hit her ears.  
"Jaskier relax. What I view as-"  
"Someone with the same likes and dislikes? Someone who does whatever the other wants? Speaks just like they do?"  
"I have friends Jaskier. Other than you. I know what-" She began to grow frustrated as he cut her off again.  
"That's not a friend Anima that's a-"  
"Reflection." She shrugged, two could play at this game.  
"Don't be melodramatic. Enough with all this mirror and glass talk." And he sushed her with a wave, but he changed his tone, it was no longer pity it was just stating facts as he knew them to be. "All I'm saying is a friend is someone who's company you enjoy despite the things about them that don't agree with you. I have traits that bother Geralt yet-" A snort to punctuate the understatment of that sentiment cut the the air from the witcher's direction. "Yet he still values me as a friend. Scoff and snort all he likes, if I was to change all the things that bothered Geralt I'd be-"  
"A respectable member of society." Geralt finally spoke up again. "But he wouldn't be Jaskier."  
"Little or big, who you are is . . . well it's who you are Anima. We've put up with you this long." Jaskier was trying to get through to her as Geralt had been for years. The damage had been done so long ago it was likely Anima would never shake the compulsion to change on the whims of others. The sentiment would always ring half hollow to her but it didn't mean that she enjoyed hearing it any less. She smiled and let the prospect sink in. She would always have to change, but maybe not everything. Maybe little things like getting drunk on cheap stout and dancing by herself were things she didn't have to uproot, atleast not yet. The people who cared about her, who loved her, maybe they would do so despite some little things.

"Do you miss it?"  
"What dancing? Nah. The other night in the Inn I was just-"  
"Skellige. If you thought we would disown you because you're from a less . . ."  
"Cultured? You can say it Jaskier. I'm not so easily offened."  
"Not offened because you're not cultured or because your not Skilligan?" Geralt let out half a chuckle as Anima laid her head down against his thigh, not to rest, just to be closer.  
"Either, both. Being cultured is just a means to get in the way of having a good time."  
"Hold up I thought we just confirmed you are Skilligan."  
"Anyone truly from the Isles wouldn't go white at stepping in puddles Jaskier. She's no more Skelligan than I am from Rivia. You only pull out the fact that your from Lettenhove when you're in a bind." Geralt pointed out how fast and loose they all played with their lore.  
"It doesn't make it any less true." Jaskier was normally the one giving into stretches of the truth while Geralt held fast on facts this was quite the turn of events.  
"When people refer to you as Julian do you feel like they're truly speaking to you? Or to a recounting of someone they've heard of?" It was a somber thought, one that shouldn't have ilicited a smile but one sat on Anima's face all the same. Geralt understood, he did because he lived a similar truth. He had been someone else from somewhere else, but he had to change, and there was no changing back. Jaskier could occasionally bob and weeve from whatever title suited him but Geralt and Anima had changed more than titles, they weren't human anymore, would never be again and thus their human names were no more than best forgotten relics. He had heard her drop casually that her name might not have always been Anima but he didn't ask, it didn't matter. If being Anima from Lyria was what brought her to Geralt of Rivia, he didn't care for the diagrams just accepted it as their facts.

From the bits he did pick from her admissions over the years she hadn't fit in much anywhere before Lyria. Too much an emotionally nuanced empath for the Skelligans, too much a brash skelligan for the empaths. He knew the feeling, too much a monster to live among men, too much a man to find purpose with the monsters. Kaer Morhen was the only place that could ever really hold both his halves comfortably. "She doesn't need to sail off the contenent to find a good patch of snow."  
"Huh?" Anima was taken a bit back by that statement. She went to sit up but heard a grumbled of protest and a palm started leafing through her hair, to calm her, to still her, asuring her he didn't mind the closeness.  
"In your long . . . long story. You kept referencing snow. That you feel homesick for. You know it . . ." He thought to say it snowed, fairly majesticly if he claimed to have an eye for that sort of thing, in Kaer Morhen. He used to stay there during winters, the last couple years he had staid more to the center of the continent, fooling no one to be closer to Lyria but if he was honest he was homesick too. If he could convince her to give it a second chance, the wolves hadn't exactly been the most inviting hosts the first go around, he could bring her to the snowy mountain tops. Maybe she would like it enough to bear spending a month or so with him. Maybe she could grow to tolerate Lambert and his crass demeanor like he had grown to tolerate Thill's sickeningly sweet optimism. Maybe Vessimer would accept her as important to him like Thom had welcomed the Witcher. It was too early for so many maybes though.  
"Geralt?" He had been smiling and talking and it had abruptly all come to a hault.  
 _'After_.' He was thinking of afters again, and he didn't question it this time, just held the pleasing notion in his chest.  
"You've lost him." Jaskier knew that look, he was thinking of his fellow witchers, of home. It had been a while since Geralt had lingered in that headspace. Normally it was a sad sort of far away glance, after someone remarked on a how much of an aboniation his kind were or worse yet tales of another dead witcher. Geralt wasn't sad this time, he was . . . daydreaming. Jaskier added it to another oddity of the day.

"Speaking of likes and dislikes. Geralt you missed out on one of your favorite pass times!"  
"Hmm?"  
"Well the land you scourched is a lost cause. But there was a turned over cart back where we last sat. You didn't even root around, see if there was any salvageable clothing or materials."  
"I was a little busy Jaskier."  
"Is this a comment on my fashion sense?" Anima had turned onto her back looking up at Geralt a bit of a bother on her face.  
"Huh?"  
"I didn't get anything impractical. Just black tunics just like you already had. Yet you insist on picking cotton off corpses instead of wearing them, scept the occasions you wear a shirt to sleep. I wear them more than you do."  
"I don't wear them because the last time I did, one got torn. All I heard about the rest of the day."  
"I wasn't concerned about the shirt Geralt. You got pulled under water by a drowner I-"  
"Swore I heard you go on about it's claw slicing through, blood getting everywhere."  
"I was worried about you idiot! not the shirt!"  
"Not what I heard." Geralt shrugged, perhaps he was misremembering but it was easier to hold to the thought he had to keep the tunics safe from harm than his skin, one goal he could accomplish, the other he could never promise.  
"For a witcher whose tracking skills are unparalleled and an empath who touts knowing all desires you two really can't read each other for shit." Jaskier's eyes weaved frantically through the exchange.  
"I know. It's frustratingly wonderful." Anima rolled her eyes, letting go of the whole tunic debate.  
"Wonderful? Sounds like torture."  
"Jaskier ever hear a tune and swear if you concentrate hard enough you'll remember the words?"  
"Sure."  
"The feeling when they finally come to you, on par with eating your favorite meal on an empty stomach. Not as good as sex but, you get my point, it packs a punch. Geralt and I have skills that remove all need for concentrating on tunes, we're built to know the words. While it leads to some bumps in the road, figuring Geralt out as I go gives me a chance to feel that."  
"Hmm." Geralt didn't know he exactly felt the same. While he had admitted in intimate momonts he relished in the hunt, more often than not he wished he had some witcher sense or beasitry entry to shed some light on what was going on with Anima. If for no other reason but to ease his worry that the world would either take her or she'd leave to travel it without him. Not having such a skill or hint had made him work harder and yet also softer. Made his mind work at puzzles and riddles not related to curses and mazes, made his body work to hold instead of shove away. Anima wasn't the only one, he was changing, something witchers didn't do but as precedence had shown he was not like other witchers.

"Ugh." Jaskier stood with a huff, squinting into the rain measuring if it was worth the walk. "Well while you two get lost in the poetry of . . . that. I'll go check that cart. Perhaps there's booze in there if we're lucky."  
"Jaskier you don't have to disappear." While Geralt apreciated the geasture he knew Jaskier was using this as an excuse to make himself scare on their behalf.  
"Well if you plan on putting on a show then by-"  
"We can keep it in our pants Jaskier." Geralt rolled his eyes, was there always a need for such pageantry?  
"Would you ever ask me not to take a lover on your behalf?"  
"I have. Several times. Once even in writing."  
"I . . . well did I ever listen?"  
"No such luck." Geralt let out a sigh rubbing the back of his head, remembering the horseshoe that struck him as he saved Jaskier from castration by the hand of an angry husband one of the more recent times. _'Had already killed the leshen, would have been nice to have been allowed in town to collect that coin.'_ Geralt sighed again.  
"I'd take it as a personal failure if I cursed you in such a way. Now I'm going to go for a conveniently timed stroll and-"  
"What if, and I know this may be hard to believe-" Anima tried to join the protest.  
"I won't stray far. Even mid passion you two would know if I was in danger before I did. I trust our group effort for us all to get to Vizima in one piece. I also believe Geralt's killed nearly anything with claws within six miles of here. You both worked hard, play hard. I won't hear another word about it." There was a breath as if he wanted to say more but he shook his head and began to walk.

"Jaskier is . . . off." Anima treded cautiously, she knew Geralt had heard the words from the bathhouse but he hadn't seen the out of sorts look in the bard as he spoke.  
"Jaskier is always off." Geralt shrugged. "I warned him."  
"Warned him of what?"  
"Not to poke his nose around in Kaer Morhen."  
"Poke his . . . oh . . . hm." And Anima let all the little peices and parts come together in her mind. "What makes Kaer Morhen any different than anywhere else he's poked his nose?"  
"The Witchers." And Geralt gave a chuckle that wasn't dry or lifeless, he had a genuine smile of amusment. "He'll lose interest in a bit. I think he's just not used to how'd you put it? A vulnerable witcher. Must be quite a sight."  
"It is. I assure you." She saw a contemplative look on Geralt's face. "Vulnerable doesn't mean weak."  
"I know that I'm not a brute." And any smile was replaced with that thinking very important witcher things face.

"I just . . . have had enough. For one day . . . or more." It was exhausting on him, what brought them to these vulnerable moments all the talking all the feeling, by the time they got there they were at breaking points. They never broke, always bent and overcame, and overcame and overcame but it was always draining and he just . . . this time he didn't want the drain. "I was . . ." He knew it was possible, they had done it before, bent just for bending's sake and he knew all he had to do was ask, they'd been over this but something was a little different this time and he wasn't sure what.  
"You were in a good mood. Stay in a good mood Geralt. You don't . . ." She was going to get introspective again but stopped, this was something that did have to change. It shouldn't be so heavy, she took the advice she was going to give Geralt. She sat up out of his lap, took his face in her hands putting thumbs at the corners of his mouth pushing them upwards.  
"Hmm." He let her play at his face for a minute till the forced smile no longer needed her prompting, it was mildly annoyed but the smile was back.  
"Now if I'm going to be vulnerable for the both of us-" Her hands pulled back and her lips took their place, kissing at the edges of the smile she aimed to keep there, then along his jaw and down his neck.  
"Anima." He had a feeling he knew where this was going and he did not want to play the part of a 'comfortable bowl of noodles' as much as he didn't want to talk about his feelings. He moved to show as much, taking her hair in his hand so she wouldn't slink devilishly out of his grasp. He didn't let her retort right away, her face tilted under the weight of his kiss. He got lost in the taste of her but she always knew how to find him wherever he got lost.  
"Geralt."  
"Hmm." He broke away from her lips and kissed at her ear then at the base of her throat, his hands held at her arms, he wasn't sure why but he needed her still for just a moment as he tried to figure out what was different and what that meant. He wanted to move, to touch and feel, she could do all the talking, all the speaking, he had thoroughly had enough.

"That means you'll have to take care of me Geralt won't you?" She cooed at him and his smile grew. Either he was too simple or she was too smart, for her to know so effortlessly what he was after. He was in a good mood, a ball of expenable and somewhat bothersome energy, he just wanted to act, to hunt and touch.  
"I will." He grumbled, he didn't push, didn't quite pin but he held her down. His kisses were heavier, they were searching and nipping at every available part of open flesh. As he peeled up her shirt his lips found more space, his tongue found more motions. He could feel it, small twists and turns in her, little residual tracks for the witcher to follow.  
"You're not even going to ask are you?" She was laughing as her skin got more sensitive and his touches more spontaneous staying close enough but far enough away from sensitive nerves.  
"No." His answer was quick, because he had better things to be doing with his mouth than speaking. Even if he didn't want to speak, not even Anima could so quickly turn off his thinking. He paused for a second and looked up from his spot at her navel. "Do you want me to?" To be honest he didn't know what he wasn't going to ask. Permission? Requests? He'd hadn't made such formal propositions before but he could.  
"No." weasiling an arm free, nudging the base of his skull, prompting his face up to hers she kissed him, met at his nearly playful hunger. "I'll let it be a surprise."  
"I don't like surprises." He breathed between kisses as he began pulling at the laces to her trousers.  
"Then you'll never know, that's fine too." This never knowing about what he wasn't going to ask was too much of a riddle for the little cluster of thoughts he was holding onto. He might not have cared for the riddles but he was enjoying the way her words were ending on high little sighs.  
"Anima what are you getting at?" He didn't want to speak, but he did want to hear her, he had gotten them both bare in the time it took to ask the irrelevant question.  
"A surprise if . . " And her voice caught and her eyes sparked as he rutted up against her, just a tease of the pressure he planned to give her. "If you'll let me Geralt." It sounded better as her hips rose along with the sigh, as they punctuated the want in her voice.  
"Let you." He scoffed, he'd let her do most anything in the moment and they both knew that. It was an exciting yet unbalancing prospect, his mind split, those small riddle solving thoughts rambled through possibilities as the rest of his head got lost while he slipped inside her.

"Geralt." Her moan was louder than usual he was sure of it, what was different? Something was different he knew it, just couldn't see it, how could he not see it? As he thrust to hear it again, he desperately tried to spot the difference, so he could replicate it, he wanted her louder, always wanted her louder but then something took away from the moment, just in the slightest a slight tug at the side of her mouth a quick quirk of her brow like something was off.  
"What?" He wanted her face back the way it was, busy burying those louder than usual moans deep into his neck.  
"It's just a shame. You're nearly dry. You look wonderfully always Geralt mm..." She could feel him press deeper still and then hold.  
"But?" All the way out pulling a ghostly gasp from her.  
"But you really do glisten Geralt. It's nearly not fair." Her hand loosened some knots in his hair, before tracing the lines of his jaw. He settled back into her a shiver running straight from her spine through his. She was more talkative than usual, normally by now she was hiding, tucking the blush in her cheeks, biting her lip to keep lustful sounds at a volume only a witcher could hear.  
 _'What's different?'_ He had to know, he had to have this again. He peered over his shoulder to the thick pelts sheilding them, keeping them dry. It couldn't just be that, she couldn't find him wet so much more appealing than dry. Nothing else was noticeably different though. "The rain's outside the canopy." He stated as to imply if he could change that for her he would.  
"Signs of a good canopy." She smiled and nodded and the high sigh was still in her words but they were softer, more controled.  
"Hmm." That couldn't stand, if he could have her louder and all it took was a little water then they'd fuck out in the rain, they'd fuck in the open sea if she'd get louder. In a sweeping geasture, he stood, gravity bringing her deeper onto him.  
"Geralt!" That was loud, not loud enough for Jaskier to hear, but louder than she'd ever been and it was lightning straight through him. A step and he felt her heels dig into the small of his back, he couldn't get deeper but she could get louder he was sure of it and now that he was sure, he'd had to have it. Another step and they were out in the rain, and maybe he really did glisten or whatever else having him dripping wet in the rain did for her. Whatever the cause, her nails dug into his shoulders and she began to rise and fall in a way more frantic than before.

"Anima." Those sighs were gone, her head falling back into moans, open moans just for him. She was moving faster, her body clenching him tighter. He grabbed at her hips and lifted her, stopped her. "I know I'm sorry. Not yet, please." He groaned out an apology and a plea all at once, kissing the rain water from her reddened cheeks. "I'll be good to you I promise I don't . . ." He didn't want it to end, this might be his only chance to spot the difference so he could have it again, he wanted it again, he needed it.  
"Someone might see us Geralt." At this he pulled her back down, inadvertently growling over her moan. That's why she had been moving with such urgency, such speed, they were out in the open. Geralt hadn't noticed, till it was all he felt in every nerve. A small part of him he couldn't explain did want that but he shook his head.  
"There's no one here. No one will see us." He brought her back against a tree grinding his full weight into her, if there was a living soul around they wouldn't see her, couldn't have her, he was fully encompassing her.  
"But they could." It was the threat, the improbable but not impossible implication that someone would see them. "You'd want them to see us." His head was growing garbled, he tried to focus on her voice but the threat of someone coming of some seeing them on the edge of ecstacy, did something to him. Shake his head and protest all he'd like Anima saw right through him.  
"I'd . . . " He didn't want to ruin the moment didn't want to push but he did, he dared, he'd be careful this time, better. "I'd want . . . Anima I don't want anyone to be this . . . close to you, I wouldn't let them, I promise. You're not a trophy I want to mount on my wall. I just . . ."  
"I love you Geralt. I trust you." Her face looked nearly sun burnt, and her eyes registered just enough fear of being caught but it was all secondary to the pants of his name. "Geralt!" That's what it was at the core of it, it wasn't her flesh he wanted plastered on display, she loved him, trusted him, loudly and proudly in a world that warned them both of what foolish notion doing either was. It was exposing that, brandishing it out in the open for a hypothetical voyer that added fuel to his already buring fire. She wasn't his, but she gave freely and openly all that love and trust, all for him. There was so much he was not allowed that others took for granite, but what she gave him was, so long as he kept his promise, so long as he was good to her, was allowed, maybe even created just for him every time she said his name. "Ge . ." She felt her leg lift over his shoulder and she was close, so close yet again but he stopped yet again. "Geralt?!" With a frustrated thud her head tossed back into bark. "What do you want you mad man!"

"I've missed hearing you Anima. Please . . . just a little bit longer, a little . . .I want you louder Anima." And he started back up again.  
"Someone WILL hear Geralt." That someone, if no one else was Jaskier, he was a distance away but she had already gone to the volume she was confident would not stretch the trees.  
"You trust me." He'd pressed only once, he knew she teetered here, there was a fine line between thrilling and uncomfortable.  
"I . . ." It was building and if he snatched it from her one more time she'd lose her mind. "I trust you Geralt. Please-" Her breath was sharp and short and her hips rocked at an even pitch. She grabbed him, one hand fisting a scruff of hair, the other digging nails into his back, she would not let him pull away again.  
"I promised Anima. I'll-"  
"I know you did. Please Geralt." She was tipping, she'd say anything to catch the release she was starved for, anything that would topple him down with her.  
"If you keep saying my name like that I'll do anything you ask Anima." He tugged at her hair, watching as her neck stretched under his hold. "What do you need Anima?" He waited, continued his steady rythm, almost fully content to just listen to the throaty breaths each motion elicited.  
"I . . ." And she bit at her lip wondering if he would keep this up till the literal ends of time if she didn't outright ask. _'A witcher's resolve is . . . something. I mean what does it matter if Jaskier hears? I'm sure he'll get a right laugh out of it. I mean there are worse ways to die than of old age pinned to a tree getting-'_  
"You don't have to shout Anima." He could see the teeter begin to fall in the wrong direction, she was thinking all together too much. "Just for me." And instead of pulling her long he pressed the back of her head to the crook of his neck. "Quiet as you want Anima, I just want to hear you."  
"I need release Geralt. I need . . . I can't take any more . . . any more teasing Geralt. I need you . . it's . . . please don't stop Geralt." It started as a whisper, then a groan then a plea.  
"I won't." And he didn't. It was enough, finally. more than enough words from Anima more than enough action from Geralt to send them both over. It was enough but there was more, there was a shout.  
"Geralt!" All the way down, all the way down. "Geralt!" Just for a split second she swore she could see his ears go just a bit red. "Geralt." just around the edges, they were ringing something wonderful, tunneling all his senses into the moment.

"Another reason I don't wear them." Once they were back under the canopy he handed over one of the shirts she had gotten him. "I don't mind you you wearing them and I'd rather you not smell of ghoul blood when I can help it."  
"Well . . ." She let the fabric swallow her. "We smell like nothing but rain water now."  
"Hmm." He was less convinced and less pleased by that statement.  
"Not that it matters."  
"Matters?" Geralt was getting dressed, he had to go retrieve Jaskier who was still lost in his own little world.  
"He'll have a day of it. We could be clean as dew on dandelions and oh how he'll go on and on about my howling. He asked for a show we gave him a concert."  
"That wasn't howling, and he didn't hear you." Howls were haunting or angry, what he had heard, what he'd hear again if given the chance was anything but.  
"You sound mighty sure."  
"He could be standing as close to you as I am, wouldn't hear a word you're saying."  
"What . . . Is Jaskier alright?" Anima rocketed to her feet.  
"When your listening to your favorite sound, it tunes out everything else." Of that he was mighty sure. "The bard's composing, what else is happening in the world is not important to him." He had been sure of that too.  
"You know you could've told me. You would have gotten your not howls a bit easier." Anima rolled her eyes, she didn't understand why he worked so hard to get things that he could have so easy. She had tried, everything in her power to give him something he wanted and didn't have to fight for.  
"You said you trusted me. Trust doesn't come easily." Just like he would never understand her compulsion to change, she would never understand that fighting and hunting, wasn't just a path or a purpose it was how he was, who he was. "What was different?" He hadn't figured out.  
"Different?"  
"Something was different. You were different"  
"Now why would I be different? You don't like surprises and you told me not to change." She followed him into the dying rain.  
"You're not going to tell me are you?"  
"No. You'll just have to figure it out on your own."  
"Hmm." Maybe she did understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some token long winded drabble. Story will be coming to an end soon now I promise.


	12. If only in my dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temria makes room for two empaths and Kaer Morhen is more alive than it's been in decades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is a little less clutered than the one's this series is now chock full of.

"So what exactly is our plan?” Jaskier held up Anima’s shitty map, they were close, very close. “Geralt have you ever fought an empath.”

“Likely have but didn’t notice.” Geralt shrugged, by sheer statistics alone he had to of atleast come across one in a fight but Anima had been the first empath he knew to use her powers so directly on him. “I doubt they bleed any different than most others.” He wasn’t concerned with the fight itself, it was getting within striking distance that would be the trouble.

“The ideal play would be to have me go talk to him.” If they were being level headed and pragmatic it should've been the first attempt, she had experience with mutated empaths, it was Jaskier and even Geralt in such an exchange that would be liabilities.

“He wants to rip glass . . . out of your blood Anima!” Jaskier thought maybe she had forgotten that small tidbit. “I doubt he’s in much of a chatting mood.”

“Eventually.” She nodded, clearing some wax out of her ear at the echo of Jaskier’s shout. “And if he’s anything like the Spider I remember, he’s always in a chatting mood.”

“You think if you go in and speak to him alone. He’ll agree to what exactly?” Geralt had been able to talk his way out of fights with some fairly nefarious criminals, had pretty good luck with trolls but he doubted this Spider that had been a shadow over Anima for years, who had let countless women die, would aquest so easily.

“Not to rip the glass from my blood just yet. Apologize for the deaths he has caused and promise to only take from those already dead.” She could hear the webs realign as she spoke.

“Just yet? So what he’ll wait till you die of old age. You’re a . . . well you age slowly.” Jaskier was just as hesitant as Geralt to believe such a pat on the wrist would suffice.

“So does he. He’s waited this long, and up until recently I didn’t have two strapping lads to galivant the country side with. You must imagine someone like me, being faced with the proposition of fighting someone like Geralt. He’d say a lot, change a lot, to avoid even the possibility of something like that.”

“It’s not a possibility Anima. I didn’t come all the way here for my health.” Eventually, not just yet, those weren’t good enough results. He knew people like Spider, plotters and schemers, he’d wait for an opening or a loophole and do something worse than he already had. _‘He might not harm her now but he’ll wait till we’re apart . . . or try to separate us somehow, wait until I leave her vulnerable and then . . . he’ll kill her when given an opening. I brought her here, out in the open, no wonder she hates the woods. I’ll-‘_ His blood began to simmer under his skin. His fist clenched as possibilities flooded through his mind, all manner of ways that if he lost sight of her long enough it could be for the last time. “After this is over I’m going to teach you how to defend yourself Anima.”

“Oh your in for a treat.” Jaskier swore he was still sore after his and Geralt’s impromptu self defense lesson years back.

“I have ways to defend myself Geralt.” Anima sighed, she was getting stronger, at speeds that would make the manor tutor’s heads spin but that wasn’t enough for them.

“I . . . what you can do works most of the time.” He wasn’t discounting her abilities, in fact this whole journey had been quite the eye opener to what empaths, what Anima was capable of but she was right, it wasn’t enough. “You need to know what to do the rest of the time.”

“Fine. Then you both need to prepare yourself for where you’re going.”

“Where we’re going? I’m assuming it’s not anywhere-“

“It’s not on my map Jaskier. It’s where I go. If we’re headed this route, he’ll aim it take it all from me. Not just the mutagens he’ll want to take you from me as well. I can hold you best I can but he’ll have a better tether on you in your sleep.”

“Oh you mean like he got the girls? Simple we just won’t sleep. Geralt has been training for this his whole life.” The dry calculative way Anima was speaking warned this would not be a walk in the park and Jaskier did his best to slash at the building tension.

“He’ll try to use me against you.” Geralt was coming to grips with why Anima was so leary. “I might hurt one of you.” And suddenly the blades on his back felt immeasurably heavy. He had to fight this man to keep him from killing more women, from killing Anima but the weapon this cretin was likely to use was the witcher himself.

“He can make you sleep. I could do that back when I was just a trick with tricks.” Anima shrugged.

“I remember.” Another thing to hate Spider for, tarnishing that memory, the time they first met. It brought him concern, they wouldn’t be here right now if dreams were a place he fared well in. He remembered what she had said to him on their second meeting.

‘ _Gentle? Even in your sleep you’re all teeth and claw.’_ Would it be like when the nightmares hit her? When she’d thrash and throw limbs in a desperate plea to fight what wasn’t there? In her it was a bother in him it could be broken bones, or worse. _‘Don’t flatter yourself witcher. All muscle and magic you may be, dead weight is dead weight.’_ She had said that as well. Was there a chance he might just suffer the mental anguish that Anima did when she lingered to far in the white? Both were possible, both rendered him either helpless or compliant in whatever Spider had in store.

“Then how do I get to him Anima? You know your way around . . . emotions, dreams that sort of nonsense. . . . sorry.” He really did hate dreams and visions, the whole vague floaty bullshit went against everything he stood for. “It takes a tole on you mentally, I’ve seen it and I’m not trying to . . . minimize that, but you remain somewhat conscious . . . I just need a window.”

“Lucid dreaming is tricky Geralt. It won’t be pleasant. It’ll make it worse, even more real.” She knew where the white took her, she feared for the witcher.

“How?” He knew Spider would try to stoke at his emotions, at his rage, his isolation, his devotion to protect, maybe even his love for his companions. All emotions that could quickly elicit blood, pain, anguish but he just needed one lucid moment, he could make it count.

“He can’t control your body far beyond that, making you sleep. He can influence your mind in a way I can not, that you haven’t felt. It’s a specialty of his, he can manipulate dreams, an Oneiromancer and an empath some madmen get all that magic! Influence but not control. Even then your body is still your body, your mind is still your mind, any choice you make will be yours.” She could see the gravity sink in, Geralt’s eyes growing darker and darker with conflict, this was a lot of burden to lay on him but he had to understand. “Your emotions, those he can control . . . obviously. So it’s all about accepting how you feel is . . . beyond your control but how you act on them is entirely within it. I go to those places, I lose my mind like I do . . . to get the results that I’m after.” She was hoping it was making more sense, why she came out so broken and vulnerable each time, it was not because she was weak it was because she was strong enough to reach out and grab beyond the break. Geralt was strong enough to do the same, at more than a bit of a handicap, having no years of training or innate empathic abilities to center himself, but he was strong. For those who couldn’t be, for those that needed him he’d bent and broken time and time again. He could bear it, get to that one moment he needed but it would not be pretty. “You will feel either the worst pains, or the greatest blisses he can stir from you. Whatever he thinks will get you to do what he wants. In the white your strengths are still your strengths Geralt. You must think when all he wants you to do is feel. Now I’m going to make some very non witchery potions, so I’d like permission to root around through what alchemy ingredients you have and I want you to scope out his home, he’s not far from the center of town. Once there think very long and very hard about what you plan to do. Rehearse it backwards and forwards, till you could do it in your sleep Geralt.”

“You staid attatched to him.” He didn’t let how quickly she knew his location slip by him.

“I did.” She nodded taking the saddlebags off a still hoofing Roach.

“Did that make this whole trip . . . worse?”

“Likely didn’t help my disposition.” She nodded again. “Geralt you’re not focusing on what you need to be-“

“Get him off of you Anima.” Geralt’s words were calm, calculated but inside he was pacing, cursing himself for not noticing earlier. He watched her face, contort like she was battling with an unruly sneeze. The fact that she had let Spider, lay claim to any part of her, even a sliver of her heartbeat was making Geralt see red. “You swore.”

“Swore what? I never said I’d let him go Geralt. Sure I could have told you but that would have just lead to another waste of time. I’m capable of forethought too you know? It wasn’t for kicks there-”

“Did you think what would happen if I killed him and you were still attached? That’s a concern of mine Anima. I can’t see these tethers what if I accidently strike down someone you’ve strung your heartbeat into? What if I’m trying to protect you and instead it’s my blade that kills you?” He was protiective, over protective, but could she blame him? Everything that had ever been kind or nice, loving or caring always had one foot out the door, quick to escape a witcher’s clutches as to not be torn up and ripped to shreds. She had staid, she hadn’t left, she trusted him to be good to her. Part of him was worried gentle as he’d like to be with her love, hands meant to so pricelessly weild silver and steel, would slip, would scar her.

“Is this your way of saying don’t try to attach to Spider once we get there?”

“Not to him, and you swore Anima, you wouldn’t use your power on me again, so do not hold to me either.”

“Geralt that’s reckless and you know it! If you want your opening not utilizing any ground I can give you is-“

“I didn’t say not to give me ground. I said not use your power on me. If I only get a moment, I can’t spend it second guessing. If I have even the notion that I could . . .”

“I’ll think of something Geralt.” Anima let out a sigh. Sometimes Geralt’s almost favoritism for the hard way to do things really was a bother. He did however know his body and mind better than anyone else, if he needed that security, that she wasn’t bonded to the battle, she would relent that to him, give him that peace. _‘There won’t be much to spare once he’s between your ears.’_ She wanted to protect him, save him from what Spider would do, what he would make the witcher relive, but she couldn’t and that broke her heart.

“And are there knots to be untied? That’s usually all I’m good for on adventures like this.” Jaskier waited for one of them to bark at him, all human and no useful combat skill, to stay back.

“No Jaskier.” Anima’s eyes lit up, it didn’t take long for an idea to hit. “You are going to tie some knots! Double and triple them.” Anima’s smile almost pulled the doom and gloom from the conversation, but there was dangerous implications now for all of them, even the bard, who she had decided would be her secret weapon. “Go on you two. I’ll catch up once I’m done.”

“Shouldn’t we be hiding? Instead of glaring at the stone work hoping it will combust?” Jaskier’s gaze was torn between the beautiful handmaids tending the the estate’s garden and Geralt, who was indeed glaring at the building as if the foundation itself would flee from him.

“He knows we’re here. Hense the pretty ladies among the pretty flowers, he’s just showing off. If he wasn’t such a dick you two might actually get along Jaskier.” Anima was surprised to see Geralt’s shoulder’s flinch at the sound of her voice. He wasn’t scared, not even nervous, he was just on edge, a precarious place to be. “Here.” She handed each man a potion, placing Geralt’s saddle bags back on Roach. “Do you want me to get them out of here Geralt? The ones inside as well? They’re not far like last time. It won’t be as . . . dramatic.”

“What’s in this? What does it do? Anima you know I trust you but you also know magic isn’t really my . . . is it safe?” Jaskier looked down at the liquid his brow furrowed in a plead to Anima to not make him drink it. “You said it wasn’t a Witcher potion but I mean I hate to remind you but I am only human.”

“You don’t like magic, you don’t like spells what do you like Jaskier?” Anima was fairly confident what she had mixed up wouldn’t have any lasting effects on the bard, for the sanity of all of them.

“Curvacious women, loose moraled men and fine wine on the tab of another.” Jaskier did not hesitate.

“Well think of those things as you chug that back.”

“Anima what is this?” Geralt had already drank his down, was already feeling the effects, he felt . . . off. “My senses they’re . . .”

“Dulled.” Anima nodded

“WHAT?! Woman are you out of your mind!” Jaskier began shaking at Anima’s shoulders. “Why not dent his blades while you’re at it. You want us dead! You’re consipiring with this Spider idiot!” And he shook and he shook and Anima just stared at him, a smile crawling it’s way up her face.

“You’re doing great Jaskier. We’re all but ready, lets just clear his day planner real quick.”

“No need to overexert yourself G-“ All tattoos, smiles and swaying hips sauntered out the door to greet them. It was maddening really how he found newer and newer ways to just out right bother Geralt with his existence.

“It’s Anima now.” She cut him off, that name meant nothing, that girl was dead.

“What?” Spider causually asked watching as his buxome garnders ran from the estate. “Sign of good faith. That I’m willing to negotiate.”

“Anima. It’s my name Spider, not my idea but I’m not an idea gal you know that. Go on get it out now.” And he did. No limerick had been so funny, no knock knock joke so hilarious as what she had taken as her moniker.

“Are you done?” Geralt wondered if he sprang at this moment if he could cover the distance, lob his head clean off. His sense were dulled, what about his reaction time.

“And these two G . . . Anima-“ he paused for an additional chuckle but pressed on as he saw Geralt reach back for the hilt of his sword. “Need no introduction. Geralt of Rivia the famed white wolf, and Jaskier, that fame had to be put to words by someone didn’t it?” His words were, kind, praising even, doting on the men. “What has she done to convince you to let her to tag along?” These words were less kind, they were derogatory. “Whatever it is I promise I can do it twice the better.”

“Unlikely.” Geralt took another step forward, his blade fully unsheathed.

“I understand I lack the anatomy she has to-“

“Quiet.” Geralt knew it was wise to let this man talk, creep closer and closer then strike but the words he was saying, each one was building the rage inside him. _‘Unless’_ He hadn’t noticed at first but it was becoming clear, this rage was manipulated, stoked, he could feel the difference in his heartbeat.

“Careful with that sword of yours witcher it’d be a pity if you clipped down your bard in cold blood in the middle of the street. What would that do for your fame? Come on lets go inside and talk.” He back was turned, plainly and openly exposed, Geralt could take this moment he was sure of it.

“Fine. Put your sword away Geralt, please.” Anima could see it, the anger rise in him. _‘Think don’t feel Geralt. Don’t get ahead of yourself.’_

“It doesn’t have to be this way. Witcher I don’t like holding your pulse any more than you do. I am surprised you left him exposed like that Anima. Didn’t even try to hold him from me?” Condecending from the tip of his head to the heels of his boots as he spoke guiding them into his home.

“Can’t.” Anima was deliberately short with her answers, she was going to get a rise out of Spider the good old-fashioned way.

“You’re not going to fool me with your stupid is as stupid does routine again. I know you’re smarter than I gave you credit for.”

“Never said I was stupid. Said I can’t attach to Geralt.” She watched him spin on his heels to glare at her, watched as he closed the gap in between the two of them till he was nose to nose with her. “Problem?”

“You’re not lying.” He backpeddled a few steps, as he dissected the information.

“Nope.” Anima was grinning nearly beaming and Spider was getting angrier by the second. He took a step towards her, one that Geralt met. There hadn’t been a staring contest he had lost yet and with arms folded and his gaze set, Geralt was as good as a marbled statue between the two empaths.

“Stay, away from her.” There was no banter and smiles, no goading, it was a threat.

“I won’t touch her I promise.” Spider put his hands up in defense, pouting slightly when Geralt’s face snarled all the more. “How’d you get them to care for you if you can’t even tether them?”

“I can’t attatch to Geralt. I didn’t say anything about Jaskier.” She answered as if she had only heard the second half of his question. “I’ve got him. I won’t give him up. I wouldn’t try to take him, right now he’s quite the handful.”

“That’s a pitiful attempt at reverse psychology, you’re talking to a mastermind do you really think I’ll fall for that.”

“Not yet, but you will.” Short, simple answers that’s all she had, that and a wining smile.

“I suppose you won’t take my word that I won’t take Anima’s gift till you're done with her? That I’ll even stick to corpses, I am a patient man I’ll get what I deserve one way or another.”

“Anima said you would say that! Can you read minds? Since when? What am I thinking right now?” Jaskier was in rare form, but that’s how Anima needed him.

“He doubts you. Even though you’re tethered to him. Even though he cares for you.” Spider seemed equal parts amused and confused by that revelation.

“Your walls are blue.”

“Huh?”

“Were we not stating the obvious? Jaskier I cannot read minds. Spider just thought he was above being predictable and he’s wrong.” Anima shrugged.

“You’re trying to upset me.” Spider let the sneer fall into a smile.

“Is it working?” Anima gave a nod then a shrug.

“Enough of this.” Geralt took another step forward. _‘She’s trying to keep him talking. So I can get closer but I don’t know how much more petty squawking I can listen to.’_ He took yet another step, the rage in him ever climbing.

“So . . . Geralt? Am I to take it you won’t be reasoned with?” Spider watched as he took another step. “I know Anima must’ve painted me awfully, I did do some tragic things to her but we were just kids trying to survive weren’t we Anima?” Spider caught a shift in Geralt’s gaze and that sent the empath forward a step all his own. “She didn’t tell you? Keeping secrets from your lover Anima?”

“What’s there to tell? Kids trying to survive, everyone’s got their fill of that story.” Another shrug from Anima and another step from Geralt.

“Do you even know her name? Do you know anything about her? Or just what she’s fed you? What she’s made herself to tailor to your liking? How can you love someone if you haven’t the slightest clue who she is?” He wasn’t sure if it was Spider’s words or his ability, but Geralt could feel it creep in with the rage, uncertainty, distrust. He loved Anima that hadn’t faltered but up until hours ago she hadn’t felt the slightest need to tell him any of her life and the lack of facts was unenerving.

 _‘Why? Did she think I wouldn’t understand? Does she view me as predictable like Spider? I’m not like him. She shouldn’t think me the same way, she’s mine she . . . think don’t feel.’_ He caught himself before diving head first into distorted emotions. “What do you know of the resurrection of Nehelania?” This had been the purpose after all, answers, clues. Anima wasn’t telling him anything if she did know more, so he’d have to scout elsewhere, that was the fact that had brought them to Temeria in the first place.

“I had heard the master of mirrors was at it again. He’s gotten quite chummy with both the lodge and Niflgard. Does that make you nervous Anima?”

“He’s a sociopath Spider . . . . so sure . . . Color me nervous.” Her shoulders would give out at this rate.

“Master of mirrors? Title seems pretty self-explanatory but why does he want to bring Nehelania back?” Geralt was trying to focus on thinking but the more evasive Anima seemed, the more distrust festered within him. _‘Why would she dull my senses? She knows how crucial they are. Stripping me of all my abilities to better suit hers?’_

“The reason any of us do anything, to give in to the wants of another, if that brings chaos so be it. Though if he’s after you too Anima I’ll have to rescind my previous offer.” Spider was just as shadowy and vauge as Anima. Geralt’s stomach was turning in unease. He took another step towards Spider, they were tethered, if he struck him, would it be a self-inflicting injury? If he killed him would they both fall? He didn’t know and he didn’t care, this had to end.

“Pity it was a beautiful sales pitch. You look cute when you eat crow Spider.”

“You won’t have her, either of you. And Anima I’d appreciate if you stopped speaking to him like he’s an old friend from university.” He always tried not to look, sound or act possessive but there was no attempt here. He did not try to shy away because he was feeling possessive and hearing even mocking terms of endearment fall from Anima’s lips had uncorked any hold he had on his rage.

“Poor witcher just like everything else in your unfair existence, your choices are not your own.” And the trio fell.

In an instant everything hurt, worse than hurt everything was agony. He couldn’t see anything and he had no clue why. He could feel himself blinking but the world was dark, pitch black and full of pain. He cried out, he sobbed, his boyish lungs filled up with air and he coughed, gagged and sobbed for the pain to end. He could smell blood, his blood. Was he bleeding? Is that why he smelled it? Heard it? He could hear it pumping through his veins, or atleast trying to, his muscles felt starved, felt aching and aflame all at once. His blood didn’t smell right, it didn’t smell entirely of iron it smelled of poision and vegetation, it smelled all wrong. He wanted to run, find someone to tell him what was going on but he couldn’t move only buck and writhe against the table beneath him. All he could do was sit blindly and smell his blood, hear his blood, be in pain, this was forever. Eventually there was a voice, it was hard to hear over the blood but it was there. “Give him time.” He knew this voice, the fencing instructor Vesemir.

“Vessss!”He tried to call out but pain stole the words from him.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Another voice spoke, it was voice no name or face sprang to mind with.

“Just . . . give the boy time.” Vesemir sounded sad, scared even. What could frighten him? What was going on?

 _‘Why can’t I see?’_ He was still thrashing. Wouldn’t someone acknowledge him? Wouldn’t someone tell him what was going on? Wouldn’t anyone help him?

“His sight isn’t coming back, he’s knocking himself feral. His heart will just give out if we prolong the trail any longer. I can make sure to end his pain quickly if-“

“Boy?” It wasn’t his name but he’d take what he could get, Vesemir was talking to him he was sure. “You can either die a child or live as a witcher you have no other choices. Now stop all this moaning and focus. Your mother isn’t coming to sing you to sleep.” This wasn’t comforting, or helpful, it did nothing for the pain. “I won’t let the other brats use mourning you as an excuse to lighten up on practice.” If he died right here and now not a tear would be shed, the days would go on with or without him.

“Faa . . .” More words tried but stalled out in his throat, the pain was still awful, but he was growing almost numb to it, this was forever, till he died a child or learned to bear the pain like a witcher.

“Vesemir this isn’t fair to the boy let him rest now.” That detatched voice spoke again.

“What isn’t fair is all the chores I let him push off till after the trial. People were counting on you boy.” The words were trivial, but his tone was so . . . sad. He’d never heard a witcher so sad before. Did he feel let down? You have to care to feel let down. Or maybe it wasn’t the boy he cared about, maybe it was the people who had counted on him. Days would go on without him but who would pick up his slack? If he didn’t do his chores who would? If they could count on him, they would care that he existed, it proved that he existed. Maybe it wouldn’t be a sadness in their voice, maybe if he was strong enough, did enough, they’d care and be proud, happy even.

“I said I would!” He panted out. Even his throat burned and ached, even his tongue felt distorted, bent out of shape.

“Just rest.” The other voice, it wasn’t sad or scared, it was firm and concrete. “Vesemir leave, there’s no swords here, nothing you can teach him. Let him rest.” That word, rest, it sounded final, sounded ominous, he might have been young but he wasn’t stupid. This man was speaking of a rest that you didn’t wake from.

“No.” He pulled hard on restraints that were holding his arms down till one popped loose, till he could finally rub and wipe at his eyes, he blinked and blinked till he willed dizzying shapes and colors to appear infront of him. “I don’t need rest.” He wouldn’t rest, not till he was ready, not while there was still people who counted on him. His choices were bad and worse but he made one all the same. He’d live as a witcher. Shapes gave way to walls, to a fortress, to his home.

Jaskier was running himself dizzy absolutely baffled. “What the fuck am I doing in Kaer Morhen? This place is a maze. Where is everyone? It's not winter yet, probably out killing monsters. One's with teeth . . . no fangs . . . feathers and claws. Oh for just a normal monster." Jaskier crumpled heavily against a crate resting his face in his palms.  
"Too much adventure for you? You'll tire yourself out chasing wolves." He heard a familiar voice call out with a bit of a chuckle but as his head whipped side to side he saw no one. Then a whistle, he remembered that whistle too, it calmed him, made him smirk and looking up he saw a familiar face.  
"Eskel?" The Witcher was up on some distant balcony just leaning and waving as if they were both meant to be there. "Eskel what are you doing here?"  
"I live here." His pleasant smile scrunched in confusion momentarily. "Is that alright with you?"  
"I . . . yes. Ok. What am I doing here?" Jaskier was not any more enlightened as he stood then sat back down again, opened his mouth then closed it again. "I . . . is Geralt here? Anima?" And he watched as Eskel's confusion turned to disappointment, then lost all traces of emotion. "Did I say something wrong? Are they alright?"  
"They're around." Eskel gestured generally. He pulled back from the edge of the balcony and leaned against a distant wall, out of the bard's eyesight.  
"Eskel?" Any comfort and familiarity left with the witcher.  
"What?"  
"I'm sorry I didn't . . . wait right there I'm coming." Jaskier shot to his feet and started for the stairs, running nearly tripping up them. "There you are! Hiding all mysterious like in the shadows!" Something, someone that made sense, it was a relief like no other. Steps couldn't come fast enough and without thinking, without asking arms clung around the sturdy witcher. "I don't know what's going. I don't know what to do. Eskel I . . ."  
"Mile a minute bard. Calm down." And a large palm was working it's way through his disheveled hair. "If I help you find your friends will you calm down? You're . . . I won't let anything happen to you alright?" Another hand was running knuckles down his spine, easing the tension there. A sigh was let out but it wasn't Jaskier's it was Eskel's.  
"Are you ok?" That sigh had seemed mighty labored.  
"Am I . . ." Finally a flash of emotion a sort of half chuckle. "You baffle me Jaskier." It was gone as soon as it arrived, his face icing back over. "I'm fine."  
"Eskel?"  
"Yes?" In a way not too disimialar from Geralt it seemed Eskel was both taken a back and mildly annoyed by the constant calling of his name. Only there was a difference, a slight one, Geralt annoyed as he was would always pause, assess what emotion was clearly written on the bards face and act accordingly to help, or answer, or on occasion scold. Eskel didn't assess he just looked at Jaskier and waited for him to speak, as if he wasn't the most readable face on the planet.  
"I . . Well it's not the time or the place. Infact I think we're not in a time or a place . . . Think we're absolutely out of it but recently I've-"  
"Tell a bard you like his voice and he won't shut up." Eskel chuckled again. There was another difference, small and innocuous but there all the same. Eskell liked things, he didn't not mind them like Geralt, he out and out admitted what pleased him. Geralt and Jaskier were friends, best friends weather the white wolf admitted it or not. Jaskier needed Geralt's calculated mind to help filter through the tornado of loose and whimsical thoughts that were whirling in his head. As much as Geralt needed Jaskier to slow his rational armored charge, to show him the beauty in the muck. It was however, nice, not be a riddle to solve and to be scene let to play out. With Geralt it was a balance, but the bard ever so much liked to teeter now and again, liked to be loud and over the top for no other reason than the thrill as well as the smiles such antics elicited. Eskel had done that for him, had liked that in him. Eskel had let the entertainer in Jaskier entertain and even though his long winded tangents and exagerated displays didn't speak in the same tounge as the witcher's he had been willing almost eager to let the bard entertain him as he saw fit.  
"I've . . . been thinking lately." Jaskier was trying to round to a point, Eskel was still a witcher after all and witchers liked points and facts.  
"Don't worry it hasn't given you any wrinkles."  
"About you." Jaskier kept on, refusing to get lost in Eskel's half cocked smile.  
"Me?" The otherside rose to the chalenge, Eskel smiled fully for him. "You've got a lot on your plate now Jaskier. Still have time to spare some thoughts on a second fiddle witcher?"  
"No. But Lambert's not here." A bard and a comic, he was quite the threat. "When winter comes I'd like to go to Kaer Morhen. Geralt misses you, he wants to go too, I've noticed. Which means Anima must be noticing too . . . Anima might take some convincing but . . I mean you were nice to her right?"  
"Manners aren't high on my skill tree. I wasn't Lambert." This poor third wolf really was getting quite the lashing.  
"I've been thinking if you'd be happy to see me again." Jaskier was a bit less confident with this sentence.  
"I enjoyed your company last time." Eskel's fingers were now rolling strands of Jaskier's hair between them.  
"So you would?"  
"Are you sure you're not thinking of me because you can't have Geralt?" The finger's stilled.  
"Can't have Geralt." Jaskier repeated the words. "I had a head start on Anima. I opened him up to the idea that people could see beyond the butcher."  
"You did."  
"I have twice the charm as Anima. I love fuller, better, more passionately."  
"You are passionate."  
"If I had wanted Geralt I would have him. I don't need magic or mutagens. I don't hold back from my desires. Geralt and Anima are all those things, are all those things for each other and that works for them . . . I sort of understand but not really, but I don't think I'm supposed to. Ugh it's not all about them is it?"  
"Seems it sometimes." Eskel didn't seem to argue nor agree outright, neutral to a fault.  
"I want what I want and if I can have it I'll take it. Normally I take and go. It's rare for me to want to return for an encore. I like to dazzle and well performing the same song and dance twice in the same hall is a tragedy but-"  
"I'm not a hall to tap dance through. Not as loose moraled as the drinks painted me that night."  
"That's one of the things that . . . loose moraled men . . . loose. . . ."  
"That's what I said. You feeling alright?"  
"No That's what I said!" I feel . . . a lot. I need to find Anima. This is a dream and I need to find Anima so that I can wake up. And Geralt, I need to find him, he was fit to roll heads if Spider's still got him he'll-"  
"Slow down." Eskel was still holding him, still gently running a hand down his back. "You know if it's all the same to you. . . If this is a dream and all. . . You could keep dreaming, wouldn't have to wait till winter." Eskel let the hand firmly rooted in Jaskier's hair tilt it back, and simply with no somber tortous back and forthing, kissed him. It wasn't dark and brooding like a kiss from Geralt would surely have been. It was powerful and lively, hungry and breath stealing, with all the ability to be mind numbing.  
"All . . ." Jaskier pulled back with a whine, he could, it'd be so easy to give in, to entertain and be entertained but Jaskier swallowed hard, pulling any ounce of self restraint from his core. "I'd love to . . . Gods know I'd love to, and mark my words . . . I will make good on this fantasy of mine but all good things . . ." Eskel kissed him again but this time Jaskier pushed him away. Another whine crumpled into a sigh as he reached out a hand, let it map cross Eskell's face, his neck, down to the cleft of his chest. "All good things come to those who wait. Right? Yes I'm right I'm sure of it." Jaskier nodded firmly. "Anima?!" Jaskier shouted. "Anima you have to get me out of here or else I won't leave. Eskel you're a witcher right?"  
"Last I checked." He nodded blowing some frustrated air out of his lungs.  
"Well can you use your witcher senses . . . to sense Anima?"  
"In a dream?" Eskel was leaning back against the wall, being dismissed had put him in a sour mood.  
"In my dream. Yes. You can do it Eskel I know you can, we can." Jaskier placed his palms on Eskel's cheeks, pecked playfully at his lips. "I can't stay but I promise I'll make it worth your . . . our . . . We'll come to Kaer Morhen and it won't be a encoure it will be an entirely new masterpiece." Jaskier's confidence was surging.  
"Hm. Well an offer like that I can't really refuse can I?"  
"To be honest this is my dream so . . . no I don't think you can. We're looking for . . . oh what the hell do they keep calling it . . . a tether! Anima said she's tethered to me and she's not letting go. Your medalion can sense magic so we just need to search out something that makes it shake right?"  
"You really trust she's still got that hold on you? That she hasn't let go to save Geralt instead? It'd be better to look for him, he's loyal. He's probably already trying to save the lot of you."  
"I'm sure he is, and if this was a hord of fiends we were fighting I'd take you to bed and wait for him to find us. I . . . I don't trust a lot of what Anima does . . . or says . . . I don't trust her like I should, I don't know that she's kept her word but . . . even an untrustworthy friend is worth looking for and even Geralt needs his friends to put some fight in every once and a while." Jaskier would not be dissuaded.

 _'It's lonely.'_ Anima was sitting, waiting patiently for some sort of hearbreaking memory or cruel illusion but none came. Far as the eye could see, ear could hear was nothing but white void. ' _Deprevation torture? Thought we agreed we weren't children anymore.'_ She kept her inner dialogue going to keep the sounds of sea shells at bay. _'How's Jaskier fairing'_ She focused in on the teather. _'Curious, horny and passionate. I wonder if he feels so strongly an empath can't bend him?'_ She knew that to be false, she herself had been willed to sleep by Spider. Still it was a warm thought that fought against the cold. _'And Geralt?'_ She had no such tether on him. He could be dead for all she knew. _'I'd know.'_ She argued against herself. Maybe she couldn't use her ability to connect them but there was something there, something binding them over space time and any workings in between. He wasn't dead yet, none of them were, but they were running out of time. All she could hope for was that she knew the workings of all parties well enough for her plan to succeed. Geralt needed to think and not feel so he could act in the moment. Jaskier needed to be a distraction within a distraction enough of too much to get their opening and Spider had to force every soul within miles not to trust her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter finally has the beginings of the not so subtley aluded to pairing of Jaskier and Eskel. I'm just a bit nervous about it, I like it I'm just not sure how effectively I can write it so I've been hesitant and will likely delve into it fully in another work if I get the full confidence.


	13. Doubt all choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A witcher without his senses, an empath not emoting and a bard lost in the clouds just breeds doubt.

It had always been the same, the big choices in life, but had they really been choices? It was kill or be killed. Live as a witcher, protect those that need protecting, don’t rest. Or die as a a child whose name had been willfully forgotten. Brehen, Renfri, those memories came back and they didn’t seem like pivotal moments that shaped him, they just seemed like inevitabilities. What choice did he really have? It wasn’t free will or choice, it was self-preservation, even mindless beasts have that. What about love? That was a choice he made right? He loved despite being a witcher, despite being warned, scolded and scorned not to. He loved Anima, he did even now, even feeling as mindless and meaningless as he did. But had it been a choice? She spoke up and down about changing for the wants and needs of others. Perhaps she had from the beginning, from the very way she said his name, altered who she was to gain that love, to gain the incomprable protective gaze of a witcher. _‘Geralt!’_ It still sounded of love, it always would but it lacked the warmth it always brought with it, a chilly distsnt love. Maybe their self-preservations just crossed paths and that was all the love he was fit to have. He was angry and hollow and cold, he wished he felt numb but he didn’t. If anything all his feelings were being shot to the surface and he was about to explode at the seams. Even that wasn’t his choice. _‘He could be twisting me and still be right.’_ It was plenty of doubt with just enough memories to back it up. The doubt was a duller ache, wrath was what burned brightest, he had no control nor care of how or why it seered through him despite how cold he felt. All he saw was red, all he smelled was blood.  
  
“If I was Anima where would I be?” Jaskier was still stuck in a fantasy Kaer Morhen with a fantasy Eskel.  
“Geralt’s room?” He might not have been real it did not mean he wasn’t helpful.  
“You bright beautiful man! Come on!” He took Eskel’s hand and ran for a few paces then stopped. “I don’t know where that is. Eskel you know where his room is right?”  
“Jaskier you’re dreaming remember? I don’t-“  
“Shhhh!” Jaskier turned on his heels and placed his full palm against Eskel’s lips. “None of that negativity. You do, because I think you do, I know you do. That makes complete sense. So . . .” He removed his hand from Eskel’s face, walked behind the witcher and placed a hand on each shoulder with an encouraging squeeze. “Lead the way!”  
“Uh . . . fine take you on the grand tour.” Eskel let out an exhausted, did not sign up for this sigh.  
“Thank you for humoring me.” There was no cause to be impolite, even in dreams. “You will one day you know? Give me a tour of the place.” There was a fond hopefulness in Jaskier’s tone.  
“And you’ll read to me in Oxenfurt.” Eskel seemed less convinced.  
“I would . . . maybe I will, I mean we’re both busy men of the world. but it wouldn’t hurt to ask would it?”  
“You’d ask anyway.” He could feel Eskel shrug under his fingers. “That’s not a bad thing.” The witcher added. “The world needs inquisitive minds.”  
“Yeah.” Jaskier nodded, Geralt had said something close to that once.  
“Well lets see what’s behind this door.”

“Kaer Morhen? This isn’t right.” Anima blinked as she took in her new surroundings. She had been wrong, and only one thing had to go wrong for everything to go wrong. “Shit. Why would Spider send me here. Here wasn’t absolutely terrible.” It had been a mixed bag to say the least. “Shit.” She cursed again trying to regroup.  
“Spider didn’t bring you here. Just like always Geralt and I have to clean up your mess.” If Jaskier’s chest puffed any further it would rip from his spine.  
“You did it." Anima paused, making sure this was truly Jaskier and not an Spider illusion. "I had my doubts but it's-“  
“Doubts? I’m hurt Anima.”  
“You doubt me don’t you? Even now you don’t trust me.” Anima stared long and hard at the bard if he was to lie she’d surely know.  
“I . . . Anima you have to understand you haven’t-“  
“I understand and I have banked on your distrust.”  
“banked . . . I don’t . . . Anima how do we get out of here?”  
“You’re the lucid dreamer that Spider doesn’t have feelers in. I think you need to wake us up and fast. Geralt doesn’t dream quite as pleasantly.”  
“Geralt! Why is this all on me? I don’t . . . I fucking hate magic Anima!” Jaskier was scared, frustrated, confused and Anima wasn’t doing a damn thing about it. “Can you help?! Can you . . . I don’t know calm me down or something I’m . . . I think I’m hyperventilating.”  
“I will.” Anima nodded but calm didn’t come, the fear that time was wasting only rose higher in Jaskier, his heart was absolutely thumping.   
“Well?!” What happens when your heart gives out in a dream? Do you wake up? Do you die? Those fifty fifty odds did not seem great to Jaskier.  
“I will.” She nodded again, there was no smile, no reassurance, just that clinical matter a fact nod.  
“I’m going to die Anima. Don’t you care at all?”  
“Would you believe me if I said I cared deeply?” No inflection, no serenity, just words.  
“Anima!”  
  
“You’re awake.” Spider very much had his fangs in, or dagger at the very least, Anima’s forearm was bleeding, bright and fast out of a hard-working vein.  
“Your walls are blue.” Anima finally smiled. “Jaskier you need to wake Geralt up!” She shouted over at the bard who was scrambling to his feet checking his heart, his face, his sheer tangible existance, then finally a trouser leg that had rode up uncomfortably far.  
“Not so fast. I’m not above repeating the same trick twice.” Spider was torn between two choices, menial points of preference but points none the less. If he attatched to Anima who was tethered still to Jaskier, he’d for as brief or long as he chose, feel that cut from his blade. On the other hand the bard was injury free but Anima had warned something being off about him. Feel her pain or call her bluff? He knew about pain, he was curious about the handful. 

He still had his hold on the witcher, which was not a walk in the park not, even for him and as he stretched out his power to ensnare the bard, it flooded him, overwhelmed him, blew out his extra sense. His hold on the witcher faltered and he could not reclaim it. “What the hell is this?” He felt confusion, paranoia, lust, fatigue courage, hope, anger, nauesa. A full spectrum of emotions from every beat of Jaskier's heart.  
“Some knots. Regular emotions only go so far, add some imagination and a healthy dose of hallucinogenics and you’ve got yourself a handful. ” Anima hadn’t even stood fully, half crawling half running to Geralt. Jaskier’s spectrum of uninhibited emotions would only daze Spider for so long. “Geralt!” She shook at his shoulders and she watched as a mountain of rage lumbered to a higher peak. His nose wrinkling a bit uncomfortably, smelling something that displeased him but not as clearly as it should have, which displeased in it's own way.

“She’s just as bad as me. Worse! She used you! For years abused your trust witcher! Used your hope that anyone wanted you beyond a blade or a fleeting fuck! She blinded you with it, bound you to it!" Spider had lost his calm calculative tone, his words were fast frenzied and sharp. "You finally have a choice, she granted you that. You can kill me to protect her, just liked she’s groomed you to. Or you can-“  
“I’m not going to kill her.” He didn’t even look Anima’s way as he stepped forward.  
“I don’t hear any words defending herself? Saying that what I’ve told you is untrue. You’d be a hypocrite to kill me and not her.”  
“She hasn’t killed innocent women.” Geralt tried to hold onto facts, onto thoughts but Spider was right, Anima hadn’t spoken up, hadn’t denied all that the other empath had been feeding him. _'Why?'_  
“Spider if I was to chose a body guard to fall for me it would be Geralt. I won’t disagree that there would be no one as fit for the job and with adversires like you looming out of sight could you even really blame me if I had? Nothing less than a witcher would suffice, that’s just logic.”  
“I couldn’t but the witcher could.” Geralt might not have been strung to an empath but he still felt the pull, the rage, the distrust, emotions were overriding thought, years of reason were being chopped at by moments of heavy handed well placed emotional blows, there was no shelter, no rest.  
“I don’t wish to be either of your play thing.” He might have been losing trust for Anima but that wasn't gaining Spider any loyalty.

“Then just leave us. Let us settle it on our own. Remain neutral, isn’t that what Witchers do when things get grey?” Geralt was dangerously close, Spider was within striking distance, exposed.  
“That’s fine by me. I asked to speak to you alone from the beginning Spider. I aim to keep you Geralt but I won’t deny you the chance not to choose, just keep on living instead. This does not have to be your fight.” Still no pleas or promises, just words. “You’re right to doubt the person who brought you into this mess, who brings you pain with little reward. I’ve taken so much from you, and if years were to go I’d just take more. I’ve stolen your senses aren’t you afraid of what else I’ll take?”

With that he had his opening. His blade was careful, methodical, driven not by feeling but by thoughts and facts as it nicked against but didn't peirce through heart tissue _. 'A witcher is best for protection no doubt about it. She took my senses away, left nothing but my eyes and scars as proof. Left me with the abilities of a war roughed human. She doesn't need that sort of mundane protection. She doesn't need me. Not like this.'_ He hadn't forgotten how to wield a sword, how to cripple and maim but not kill. "Anima?" The moment was over, it was high time they left this place.  
"You and Jaskier are untethered." She had been sure to pull any tether off the bard once Geralt stood. "You've saved the day. If you want you can go." Anima sat on the floor, sighing almost sad, almost. "I can . . ." She grabbed at her chest in a slight wince. "Can calm you down if you'd like. I promised Jaskier I would but I expect the trust isn't quite there."  
"You don't need me any longer? This was the endgame?" Geralt was staring down at Spider who was holding a wound in his chest. All in all it was somewhat anti climatic. "And you'll take the pot? All the glass?" He sneered, even this choice hadn't been his own had it? He figured she wouldn't mind laying the fatal blow herself, she had just needed the witcher to track down the empath. She had made Geralt her puppet.  
"I never needed you to survive. I was surviving just fine without you as were you without me. Breathing in and out is something we're all quite talented at." Anima was by this point prone, laying out against the floor. Geralt took Spider by the hair and began draging him.  
"I won't allow you to loot him if that's your goal. It's best to steer clear of me for . . ." He didn't see an end, it wasn't coming down, the blood lust, the rage, the distrust. "Come on Jaskier." Geralt grumbled as he made way for the door.

"Here." Anima pulled one last potion out of her cloak and tossed it to Geralt. "It's uh . . . does to an empath what the other did to you. It detaches you from . . . everything. Renders an empath useless." Geralt uncorked the bottle and slammed it unceremoniously against Spider's teeth, forcing it down his throat. He blamed both empaths, hell every empath, the very spring from wence emotion came from for his current state. His heart was viced, crushing smaller and smaller with each step.  
"Anima say . . ." He wanted to hear it, perhaps that would quench the fire but if she said hs name he wasn't sure he wouldn't fall right back under her spell if indeed that's what it was.  
"No need to complicate things." Anima sighed.  
"Come on." Geralt, Jaskier and Spider left, Anima staid on the floor starring at the ceiling. Spider hadn't killed her, still the web weaver had managed to take all she valued from her, she had handed it to him.

Spider was bound and bleeding in Geralt and Jaskier's room. Luckily Vizimans were not all too inclined to listen to his lackluster declorations of redemption while he had been dragged there. "I think I'm dying." He stated flatly as he pulled at his bonds.  
"You're not dying." Geralt balled up one of the tunics Anima had gotten him and held it against Spider's chest.  
"Are you going to kill me? Or are you accustomed to having an empath around and I've won the open spot?" He didn't seem concerned or curious, just filling the air.  
"Hmm." Geralt didn't know what he was going to do with Spider, he hadn't gotten that far. "Were you pulling my leg or do you really believe that. What you said about Anima? It'd be smart not to get smart with your answer." Geralt had no tolerance left for dancing words.  
"Witcher I'd say anything right now, and to be honest most other times too. My words don't hold as much weight as they normally do." This was the first thing out of Spider's mouth Geralt believed without hesitancy.  
"Geralt once we . . . come down. We should find Anima. We're all not our . . . selves right now. You're an angry wolf I get it, barking and snarling and woof-" Jaskier's potion was peaking in a floaty delirium. "I forgot to tell Eskel you said hi!" A laugh crescendoed into a sad little sigh.  
"Eskel? What are you . . . Jaskier stay quiet. I'm still-" And as he heard the bard interrupt with what he was sure was meant to be a growl but came out as more of a lip heavy purr Geralt got up and paced. The bard would be no help, Geralt didn't know what to do, and he always knew what to do. That was one of the many skills people needed him for. Did the potion scrub that sense away from him too? It was not enough that she didn't need him any longer. Did she have to make it so he was so blinded by rage to be no use to anyone?

"What's wrong with him?" Spider spoke up again this time addressing Jaskier.  
"Huh? Who?" Jaskier was preoccupied buttoning and unbuttoning his doublet.  
"Your wolf." They both looked at Geralt who had both hands over his ears, his eyes blinking at such a pace that he looked as if he were crying.  
"Geralt?" Jaskier put a hand to Geralt's back and the White wolf nearly jumped out of his skin.  
"Shut up!" It was all surging back, it was not a pleasant build and blow like Jaskier's had been. It was shoving him off a cliffside into a pool of freezing water. Sight, hearing, touch, smell, they were all cramming their way back into his skull. Geralt flung an end table, kicked at the bed, punched and then after about ten minutes, leaned exhausted against a wall till his body returned to it's abnormal normal. At one extra long inhale he could smell it, Anima's blood on Spider's hands. That in and of it self was not new information, but there was something mixed in with that blood that didn't belong. That same something was lingering on Spider's breath.

"Jaskier we need to go. Now." He pulled at nape of Jaskier's neck.  
"Do we though?" Jaskier wasn't much in the mood for more heroics.  
"I could leave you with Spider if you'd prefer." But that was a statement for show as he began to pull the bard along.  
"You'd leave me here with all these hearts within distance?" Spider again ground at his current state of stuck.  
"Try."  
"What?"  
"Try to attatch to someone. Go on." Still with Jaskier in his clutches Geralt stood over Spider and waited, dared.  
"What's . . . why can't I?"  
"You're not dying but your heart won't heal right. It's weak, and it will scar weak." Geralt didn't have time to gloat, he and all the dead weight that was Jaskier were down the stairs out the door, looking for Anima.

"Fuck." His heart bottomed out, she wasn't in Spider's home, he could smell her blood trail but she wasn't here and he worried he might be too late.  
"She left Geralt." Jaskier placed another hand on Geralt's back, letting out a happy sigh when Geralt didn't spasm at his touch. "What else is new, always soooooo much trouble that one. Why is she like this Geralt? Why does she act like this?"  
"You can ask her when we find her Jaskier." He had to find her, make sure at the very least she wasn't dead.

She was at a tavern, drinking wine and cringing at a lesser bard. "Anima you promised me you'd tell me."  
"Hmm?" She seemed genuinely surprised to see them there, it looked like she might cry tears of joy but then cynicaly thought better of it. "Figured this time it didn't count. That it didn't exactly fit the-"  
"When you don't fear death you have to tell me. I couldn't have been more clear." He grunted the words past beared teeth. "I can't keep you safe if you don't tell me." A palm slammed into the table, when would this rage end.  
"Keep me safe? What happened to stay away?"  
"The potion you gave me for Spider, the one you took, left you emotionally detached." A fear of hers she had voiced multiple times. "You don't feel fear you don't feel anything at all. Has it worn off?" That's why she hadn't pled her case, assured him of her love, she felt nothing at all and acting otherwise would have been a lie.  
"I don't need you to protect me." She tried to state cooly as before but there was edge underneath that Geralt could hear.  
"So you do feel. Fear do you have it now?" The potion had worn off but he was leaving nothing to chance.  
"Just . . . you're still feeling the effects of Spider you need just a little more-"  
"Say my name." Geralt as previously stated was done with dancing, he needed something steady. The way she called his name was always simple, always true, exactly what he needed.  
"Are you sure that's wise I don't-"  
"Why are you like this?" Jaskier whined as the tediousness of the day hit him in the chest. "Smoke and mirrors, are you supprised that we don't trust you?"  
"No." Anima shook her head, things had gone exactly as she had planned.  
"Always leaving us in the dark till the last possible second. Why?"  
"Because . . ." Her tongue rolled over the front of her teeth as she wondered how safe it was to shed light onto the darkness she carried.

"I clipped Spider's atrium. He'll live but he's of no threat to anyone." He watched for Anima's reaction, he was expecting her to be upset that he hadn't killed the empath but seeing her smile at him for the first time in hours made everything all the more confusing. _'Not blood and guts then? That's not what she loved me for.'_  
"Is it cruel that I'm happy he'll live? He'd prefer death over being ordinary."  
"We've wasted enough time on him Anima. I've been on edge for hours I need you to push me one way or the other. If you care even in the slightest, you owe me that." His rage was straining at even the boundless stamina of a Witcher, he either needed to lash out or calm down, he needed some sort of release. He could see her concider deeply before speaking.

"To answer your question Jaskier, why I'm like this, I just . . ." She let out a frustrated sigh. "G . . . His emotions are very . . . important to me . . . Very special. I just want to protect them, even from me. They're vulnerable . . . especially to me. What I am makes me inclined to taint or influence, even if not outright, even if my heart is in the right place, sometimes I step past boundries my loved ones deserve. So I give a wide berth when it comes to what I do . . . to keep them safe. I aim to keep him, but I refuse to shackle him, any of you." At first it seemed like circular logic, his emotions were vulnerable to her because he loved her, letting him hang on the prospect that any part of that love was manufactured, because she wanted him to feel free of her meddling spun him mad, caused him emotional free fall.  
"Enough of a wide berth to let me question whether or not you loved me? With zero context." The troll in the room was still very much there and not so easily parried.  
"I want to protect all your feelings not just ones that suit me. Spider can make you feel an emotion, but those thoughts were yours, I warned you of that. I'd rather you question that I love you than force you to love me without question." Her eyes were a bit sad but she smiled at him. "I do love you Geralt and I want you to accept that on your own time, on your own terms." This registered with him, he could make a parallel. He wanted to protect her from all the evils, man monsters and everything inbetween. What he was, who he was laid right there. He wanted to protect her with all he was, despite being what he was inherently put her in more danger than she would be otherwise. They were both threats and promises to one another, spiraling and circling around a very fragile love neither one of them could trust they wouldn't ruin.  
"Hmmm." How did they navigate this. He reached out and took her wrist, there were now bandages fully up to her elbow, but he just ran his thumb up and down her pulse. The tender contact started to ease some of the rage swelling in him. "I said I'd teach you how to defend yourself didn't I? For when I'm not there to do it for you?" He didn't want to leave room for her to think he'd so easily give up that post, he didn't mind that he could protect those he cared about.  
"Yes." Anima didn't know where he was going with this but was already rewarding him with a warming apreciative smile, the ice around her edges slowly thawing.  
"Perhaps you can teach me how to sort through my . . .nonsense." Emotions were too impractical, they were just that, nonsense, that didn't mean they didn't exist, weren't a part of survival. "Alone, when you can't help me. To be clear these lessons are for extreme circumstances." He preferred having her aid when it came to his feelings, it hurt less, sometimes even felt righly good when she guided him.  
"How are you feeling right now Geralt? The rage is it-"

"We should go back to Kaer Morhen!" Jaskier shouted his existance to the forefront, grabbing Anima's wine glass from the table and taking a swig, half of it falling through a grin.  
"Huh?" Anima wrenched the glass back from the bard. "Jaskier do you need help . . .coming down? You asked me to calm you down earlier."  
"Please." Geralt answered on the bard's behalf. "What did you do to him?"  
"Kaer Morhen!" Jaskier held to one of the last semi rational thoughts he could remember. "Geralt would like to go there. I would like to go there. We should go there! Learn tactical self defense, emotional range, imagination. We'll be unstoppable." His words were slowing as his fingers counted the keys to success.  
"Kaer Morhen didn't seem too accepting of emotional range last we were there. Spend a lot of time finding shapes in clouds?" She saw Geralt's face flinch slightly before smoothing over.  
"No." He shook his head. "I did say I'd take you Lyria." He quickly hid the slight hurt with a new plan of action he thought she'd prefer, giving a slight squeeze to the wrist he still held.  
"According to my shitty map it'd make sense to go west through Sodden to Lyria first but what do I know I'm no fucking cartographer."  
"First?" He couldn't hide it, couldn't stop it from spearing up through the rage, there was hope in Geralt's voice. Couldn't keep the image of home from his head.  
"Fredrick's books say that the passage to Kaer Morhen becomes impenetrable by deep winter. That's when the Witchers hibernate."  
"Hibernate." Geralt rolled his eyes with a huff. "Do I have a snout and fur Anima?"  
"Lets see." She stood on the tips of her toes brushing at his nose with her own, watching his eyes close and all remaining tenseness leave his features before letting her fingers glide through his hair. "No."  
"Hmm." He could understand her worry, her touch, her words, her pressence seemed to will the rage from existance, he could see how she wasn't sure if that was her or the magic coursing through her veins. "It's not the glass." He let out a breath that had been burning in his lungs. They would never be a hundred percent sure of that, there was no test he could implement, no sense he could utilize, he just had to trust how he felt, trust Anima's word that she would protect his vulnerabilities as he would her's. His hand finally stopped ruuning along her wrist and with some of that lingering frenzied energy grabbed her chin in his fingers.

"Geralt?" She saw an angry simmer in his gaze, she wasn't sure if it was a last surge of what had plauged him or something new that sparked him. He didn't answer straight away chasing at his names with his own lips, kissing her rough and stilling.  
"I'll take you anywhere Anima. Lyria, Kaer Morhen, Oxenfurt-"  
"We . . ." Jaskier had reclaimed the wine glass sipping obnoxiously small tastes as he struggled to keep eyes open. "Should go there too. I'll read to Eskel." It was such a pure unworried, gritless starement, a wish that even if it didn't come to fruition Jaskier had the care free confident tone to voice, to bring them all from the heavy to somewhere in a hypothetical future, somewhere light.  
"After." Geralt nodded leaning his forehead down into Anima's, a smile was there but it wasn't carefree, Geralt would never be carefree. "I couldn't have been more clear Anima." And His face moved inward, curling in around her neck breathing in the fact that she was safe, she was alive, but she was bleeding, they had won but not without costs to all of them. What about next time? "Fear."  
"I'll tell you. I promise."  
"I don't believe you." He kissed at her pulse, he'd protect her, even from herself. "You don't believe you. You'd even take you from me. I won't allow it." The rage was lost but not forgotten, he half snarled half kissed her. Reclaiming her love, risking anew his trust. "You aim to keep me? For what purpose? Tell me plainly Anima, just tell me what you want out of me?" He'd take her home, take her to his, ride her up and down the coast but moves without motive was a madness he could not endure.  
"Whatever you haven't sworn to the path, to the people, what you haven't bleed across the continent, whatever is not for others that you love, whatever is not solely for you. Whatever remains. There is a part of you just for me." She kissed him, leading, controlling, but not dominating.  
"Hmm." Geralt pulled his face back in annoyance. "That was not plain Anima."  
"Contracts for rings lost down the sewers are triple layered Geralt. You make easy hard, maybe if I stay dificult it will be easier on you."  
"Unlikely." But he kissed her back nipping at the prospect of the challenge, looming and swallowing her. It would be harder, so much more difficult but if their love was to survive it could not be soft and easy.

"Yoo hoo" Jaskier was near napping, crumpled awkwardly in a chair staring sadly at a long empty glass. "What do we do about Spider?"  
"He's long gone. We're crafty and adaptive am I not proof enough?" Anima shrugged, nestling herself into Geralt's chest. "Wasn't worth the hassle was it?" She gave a punch to his shoulder. "Should have told me why were going to Temeria. What a wate of time. I would have told you Geralt, empaths don't trouble themselves with useful facts and mindful lore they just feel, the least tricky thing about them is what they're all about." She hugged him, kissing at the shoulder she had hit.  
"Hmm." She was maddening, allusive, and untrustworthy just what an empath by trade was. All traits that made for a horrible travel companion yet alone lover, but how does one argue with nonsense?  
"You know you're going to have to carry him back right?" Anima chuckled at the sound of Jaskier's open mouth snores.  
"Finally something normal." Geralt pulled back from Anima, carefuly shuffling Jaskier over his shoulder.

"He'll be alright won't he?" Geralt began walking to the door.  
"Oh yeah. He's just high is all. Less a potion and more a stiffer than usual cocktail."  
"You drugged him?"  
"He doesn't like magic. So no magic, but Jaskier being more . . . open than usual worked dual purpose."  
"Sure love your dual purpseses. I'll bite why did you 'open' the bard?"  
"With Spider latching onto the two of us Jaskier had the best chance of getting free, being half out your mind makes you harder to be jailed there. Secondly I knew Spider would have to call my bluff, have to tether to Jaskier and once he did, like samum right to the face! Pow! All Jaskier's big loud emotions absolutely stunning him."  
"Confident about your plan were you?" He smirked, it did endeer him even more, she could say empaths were all feeling and no thought, but then that made her an exception, she was tactical in her own way. This plan of hers had not been a pleasant one, not for any of them, but she executed it knowing that, not shying away, embracing the dark in them, determined they were strong enough, had enough light in them.  
"A sorceress once told my witchers hate uncertainty."

They breached their doorway, and to neither of their surprise the room was empty, just a blood stained tunic where he had left Spider. "Really Geralt?!" She held up the fabric and scowled.  
"Told you, bitching about bloodstains again." He layed Jaskier down on his bed. "I'll make it up to you Anima." He wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged them both down to their bead. He let out a heavy sigh, simply exhausted. "You were right Anima." His eyes closed as he felt her find her place at his chest.  
"What about?" Her leg hitched over his, after being walked away from she wanted him as close as possible.  
"Emotions are overrated." He smirked as he felt her kiss from his chest up to his collarbone. He didn't open his eyes but he could feel a coyly fond gaze on him. "Overrated but they have their use." She kissed his lips, not heated and hungry just lovingly. "We all need some rest." She laced fingers within his and held it above his head. "But I'll show you soon." Her other hand masked over his closed eyes. "The benifits of . . ." Still lovingly but the bite and pull at his lip after this kiss was a bit more of a tease. "Just feeling." She chuckled as she felt his hips nudge up, if he was going to feel her a tease wouldn't do.  
"Soon?"  
"Emotional range. I'll show you in Lyria." She cooed as she felt him come at her with a bite of his own into her shoulder a frustrated groan into her skin. Geralt as always was a hair impatient with foreplay especially of the spoken variety, to be expected of a man of action.  
"Lyria?" He held her tighter with his free arm. "Sodden and I'll-"  
"Swear not to use our night shirts as blood rags?"  
"Hmm." It was his turn to kiss fondly, the word ours hit nearly as nicely as his name. "Can't promise that. What is it you want to see in Sodden anyways?" When he thought of Sodden his mind went to honey and hilltops.  
"Huh? " She had been bringing it up since they started for Temeria.  
"Sodden, only if I figure out what you seek there." The relief of having a clear objective was fully audible in the humm of his voice.  
"And then Lyria, Kaer Morhen, Oxenfurt but all that after sleep Geralt. Rest. They will be there in the morning" She sounded tired.  
' _After.'_ He could dream of after. _'Rest.'_ He could rest, they could rest, not forever but for now. That word was no longer a death sentence, it was not their bodies simply giving out despite needing to push farther. It was a choice, their choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've tried to keep this story moving but I feel it stalling out. I'm still proud of what I've done but I'll probably put a firm end in this arc and either start a new part to the series (nothing particular in mind) Write a short story for Jaskier and Eskell, or take a break from this series entirely and do something different.


	14. Solving Sodden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier do not see the big deal about Sodden, nor are they a fan of the welcome wagon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always got caught up in the banter, having to add an extra chapter then I'll end the story I promise.

"So?"  
"Hmm?" Geralt rolled his eyes, it was always the soos with her.  
"Have you figured it out yet?" She was pacing up past Roach.  
"Anima we haven't stepped three feet past the road marker how am I supposed to know what you want from this place?" He felt a stir off amusement in him. The frivoulous way he was using his senses, delighted a small rebelious part if him, that wanted none of the drudges of work, just some lazy exploits. His eyes were scanning nondescript homes and business for anything of note, not at the ground for foot prints. He was smelling the air for signs of a baker that made pies similar to Orwen's, not for blood trails. He was listening for a particularly raucous band playing those jaunty tunes Anima loved spinning and bobbing to, not for the squeals of any manner of beasts. There was no peril here, not even the more mundane peril of losing out on coin, yet still he felt his heart drum a little faster. It didn't thump with lust like when he was on a hunt for Anima's moans, it was just a light buzz from an innocuous challenge. Geralt was competitive, he liked to be best, he liked to win.  
"Did you want a hint?" She chuckled, though not heavy enough to alert Geralt that he had almost half a smile.  
"No." The answer was quick, that would take the spirit out of it, the fun a more carefree man might say.  
"Can I get a hint? This place seems. . . bare." Jaskier was not dazzled by Sodden in the slightest.  
"No." Geralt was off roach, staring at Anima's coy confident grin, the kind normally reserved for two stouts deep at an Inn. He breached the distance between them and loomed, looking down at her, a perfectly unflinching puzzle and she knew it, knew that this amused him. After a moment of staring she reached out and gripped both her hands around one of his and pulled. His eyes bolted wide, was time up already? Had this playful window been so small.

"Come on! I want you to meet someone! You''ll get a kick out of him I'm sure." She walked four paces one way then turned and walked the oppoisite direction, a cartographer she was not.  
"Meet someone?" His brow scrunched, he felt a bit guilty for never considering that her world extended outside Lyria. "Is this why you were bent on Sodden?" Geralt hoped she hadn't lost patience and spoiled it all, he was also pensievely hoping it wasn't this mystery man that had her beeming. It wasn't a possessive feeling more that he wished he knew how to get her to smile like that. He _should_ know by now, not just accidentally happen upon them by dumb luck. He knew six ways to skin a siren but smiles were not in his wheelhouse and she starved on his behalf.  
"You asked about him once. You'll like him I'm sure! Well maybe not straight from-"  
"A breaking branch in the woods startles you. When the fuck did you travel to Sodden to make friends?" Jaskier frowned, everything about this place was boring and beige, why Anima would leave Lyria for here of all places was beyond him.  
"Never been." Which explained the circles she was walking them in. "You two aren't the only ones to travel land and sea to visit me. Excuse me do you know where the Dombors live?" Anima paused to ask a walker by who looked confused by her sheer presence. As the woman's glance traveled down bandages and hit at the witcher's palm in Anima's hold, confusion only grew.  
"What do you need him for?" And while there was a fear of him in this woman's voice, Geralt took a page out of Jaskier's book, found the compliment. She felt whatever Anima's problem was if the big scary witcher couldn't solve it no one could.  
Geralt thought harder, they nearly always spoke in the present, very little of the future, as little as possible of the past. He was wracking his brain for a moment he had asked about anyone with the surname Dombor.  
"A direction and you won't won't have to care." He appealed to what he knew of most humans, if it didn't have to be their worry they didn't want it to be. He now had two peril lacking mysteries. Why was Anima so eager to be in Sodden? And who the hell was Dombor?  
"Jordy and his witch mother live out on the edge of town. Them and the drowners. They can smell blood you know?" The woman gave another warning yet more so judging glance to Anima's bandages.  
"Who? The drowners or the Dombors? They're vampires aren't they Anima? Did you have a secret Fleder lover?" Jaskier jested as they headed in their new direction. Glad to see Geralt was taking this so well, the smile was gone from the witcher's face but he didn't look riled or jealous. Geralt was too busy for those petty feelings, he was still solving Sodden.

"Jordy was human last I saw him." She shrugged as she weaved them through streets. "He asked me not to hold it against him. I normally didn't." She only stopped when Geralt's hand stopped following.  
"The human who asked you to marry him. That's Jordy?"  
"What the fuck is wrong with you? You're bringing us to your would be finance? Is he still in love with you? Is he going to try duel Geralt for your hand?"  
"Hmm." Geralt let his feet move again, he wasn't worried. His shoulders rolled slightly, he wouldn't mind a simple fist fight or even a good test of steel, it'd be almost a welcomed test of just brute strength. No emotional tetheters or elaborate traps, straight forward. It didn't matter if this human still loved Anima, she loved him now and she would love him more once he found what she was looking for in a place she'd never ventured to. She hadn't traveled up the Yuga for this human, she'd circled the continent with Geralt, dipped into other relms on his behalf. He did not feel threatened, just eager to take on another quest of little consequence.  
"Jordy wouldn't do that." Anima chucked at the almost disappointed snort that came from Geralt.

"Jordy wouldn't do what?" The woman hadn't been kidding about the drowners. There was a man leaning against an alchemist booth a bag billowing with bits and severed pieces of the nechrophages in his grasp.  
"Jordy?!" Anima gave Geralt's hand a squeeze before approaching the man. Geralt frowned, this bothered him, again it wasn't jealousy, it was just they had never held hands and walked through town like that and to be honest he hadn't minded it till it was over, he wanted it back.

"Well she's got a type." Jaskier's head cocked to the side as he took in Jordy.  
"Hmm?"  
"Girl enjoys a brisk climb up a rugged mountain." This man looked maybe as Geralt would if he himself were human, well a disheveled human. Jordy was a broad square muscled man, at a hight decent enough for looming. Geralt took care of his weapons, his armor, even his appearances when it was within his ability. He did so because he wanted to be at top form. He wanted to be able to do his job not just well but unequivically best. Jordy had no such evident care. His steel sword leant against the booth had visible warps and cracks in it, the bits of light armor he did have were tearing and lumping at creases. His dark chestnut hair somehow seemed to be all frenzied bangs hanging over his eyes. His beard seemed equally unruly. And while it wasn't apparent at first glance what Jordy's job was, the look of mild annoyance on his face seemed to impress he held nothing similar to a witcher's passion for it. "You wear it better Geralt." Jaskier patted his friend on his shoulder.  
"Hmm." Geralt's need to keep things meticulously maintained could be chalked up to the borderline neurotic training that had been drilled into him. At first that had been it, muscle memory, instinct and the will to live but much time had passed since he was a green fresh off the trials witcher. He could have eased his standards for upkeep, let Vesemir's lessons grow dull and distant, work as gruff and unpolished as most the jobs he took would seem to welcome. He didn't because if he wasn't at his best it would haunt him that he could have done more. He'd grind blades past midnight, read every formula twice over, reek of potent oils that burned his nose, run miles to keep his stamina up anything to ward off what ifs. Geralt began to walk towards Jordy and Anima, he would always be the best he could be for her but that came at prices, he couldn't be carefree for her and that bloomed a small what if all it's own. What if carefree is something she missed, something she was after? "She does hate beards." His arms folded over his chest, he wouldn't allow this smallest bit of uncertainty to send him mad. He knew he wouldn't lose her to this what if but again it was a bit of guilt, something she didn't have because of him.

"Jordy long time no see it's me. Anima." She didn't run into his arms but waved casually as she approached.  
"Anima? Ah my dead eyed doxy." The sack of drowners hit the floor with a wet thud and his arms went around her waist as he hugged her, there was an audible pop to her back as he squeezed.  
"Jordy! Jordy! Too tight!" It was a strained laugh.  
"Ahm." Geralt's closeness could no longer be ignored, he tried to temper his scowl but his fists clenched slightly as he fought a small part of him that was done sharing. He wanted to be holding Anima not this brute. Not jealous, but getting close.  
"Geralt of Rivia." Jordy placed Anima down on her feet and reached out for a handshake. "So it's true then? Here I thought Thill told me you had eyes for a witchman just so I'd back off." If Jaskier had been hoping for an epic duel it would seem he'd go without. Jordy while not exactly friendly, was not outright inclined to lock horns with the witcher.  
"Wouldn't have headed a lesser dismissal?" Geralt did finally shake Jordy's hand, the amount of loose shake there was to it came off a bit alarming.  
"Don't flatter yourself." Jordy rolled his eyes picked up his bag, and started walking down the hill. "Your witchman's got a fine ego in em, looks just as miserable as most. Nothin too special about em." Jordy looked over his shoulder at Anima, though he never offered he seemed annoyed they weren't following.  
"I can hear you know?" Geralt grimaced, he never liked how tense humans were around him but he was discovering he wasn't a fan of how relaxed Jordy was.  
"Yeah you sure got ears!" He was relaxed with Anima too, slinging a heavy arm across her shoulder leaning his weight in, almost causing her to stumble.  
"He's drunk." And Geralt felt his fingers clench into his palm. He wasn't angry, he wasn't jealous it was a similar queasy gnawing feeling to what he had experienced when Eskel made Anima eggs.  
"Guess Anima was wrong about something cause you clearly do not love him." Jaskier got half a chuckle out of this whole display. "That's why I never visit old lovers, especially with new ones in toe."  
"I thought that was so you wouldn't get their names crossed."  
"Har Har." Geralt might not have been loose and carefree like Jordy but he did have the ability to joke.

"So Jordy, any big hunts lately? You know Geralt's a hunter like you." Anima tried to connect all the separation in the group.  
"Hunter like me you say? Witchman's got two razors on his back and he probably still hunts mums way."  
"And what way is that? Exactly." Geralt was begining to side with Jaskier, he couldn't understand why Anima thought they would become fast friends.  
"I think he's saying you hunt like a girl." Jaskier very much did not think _he_ deserved the scowl that clarification elicited from Geralt. "Don't spear the messenger."  
"Whose the short one Anima?" Jordy's gate was long and meangering and he showed no sign of slowing for his companions.  
"I'm of normal stature I'll have you know. Anima just seems to have a hight requirement about her. I . . . hello" Jaskier had to wave to hold Jordy's overshoulder glance.  
"Case on his back, for minstrile strings not razors. Is he on the Witchman's cock too? Or just stroking his ego's?" Jordy laughed quite pleased with himself. Anima went to swat at the back of Jordy's head but her wrist was grabbed. At one small movement, one probably not even registered by it's doer, a quick slide of Jordy's thumb up and down Anima's pulse, Geralt was finally bristled past mild annoyance.  
"If you have a problem with me just say it." There was no loom here, as he placed a hand on Jordy's shoulder. there was no lean, no atempt to smooth his edges. Geralt was long and broad and done with Jordy snatching at closeness that could have been his.  
"Problem?" Jordy blinked not too urgently as he thought on the word. "Don't flatter yourself witchman." Jordy stated for a second time. "Stick up your arse aside if Anima likes you, can't be all bad, she doesn't like anyone. Curdles like milk just to be stuck with you."  
"Getting compared to curdling milk never does get old." Anima pulled out from Jordy's hold with a scoff and reached out for Geralt's instead, forcing his fingers to splay out and let her's find a home there. It wasn't a victory exactly, more so an assurance, she'd pick him everytime because she believed him, he'd be good to her.

"Fine, fine manners and tact. Is that why you came witchman? To hunt? Boar are heavy this time of year. Told Anima few years back that I near was trampled by a sounder, even brought her some bits remember?"  
"We came here . . . so Geralt could hunt boar?" The dread and disappointment drowning each of Jaskier's words was palpable.  
"Jaskier I struggle to remember hunts that I've been present and accounted for. If you think I remember and plotted a course around a retelling of a boar hunt from six years ago . . . I wish I was that thoughtful but sadly no. I enjoy sitting on hunts now but just barely and-"  
"She's butted herself in on your hunts witchman?" Jordy seemed offended on Geralt's behalf. "Ain't nothin sacred to this one."  
"They come along from time to time. I don't mind-"  
"Anima." Jordy barked over Geralt. "Mum's is the green shitty looking one bein taken to sea. I'm takin your witchman to see if two razors are really worth their weight. Mum's retired but if you ask real nice she'll fix you a fix for your eyes like the old days. Looks like you've gone without for sometime. That how you came about being wrapped to hell?" He poked first at one of her temples then at her bandaged arm, at each she squirmed from his touch batting him away with annoyance, each time Geralt pulled her a bit closer to his side. "Witchman can't even protect a strumpet what a-" At this Geralt's teeth ground, a sour grumble leaked through, loud enough even to give Jordy pause if only for a second.  
"So you are appropriate company for a hunt but not me? More a people person, less curdled milk? Don't flatter YOURSELF." Anima went to let go of Geralt's hand but he held his grip.  
"Huntin ain't about chit chat, being a sodding people person, that's exactly the problem. Witchman's probably hasn't gotten a moments rest with you two bleetin on about the scenery or the goings on of your day. It's about the ground beneath your feet and the prey within your sight that's all. Ain't that right Witchman?"  
"Hmm." Most of the time spent hunting he agreed with Jordy's sentiments. "They try." It had become a bit of a habbit, maybe even a tradition. After spending too much time in city walls, sorting out contracts and squabbles Geralt would long for some peace and quiet, Jaskier and Anima would be precariously close to too comfortable. That's when they'd go together. A way to transition to the wilds, get reacclimated with the woods that calmed or spooked depending on one's position. It pleased Geralt, that routine, that promise. Each time, while among brush and beasts was not their domain, they wanted to share it with him, trusted him to navigate it for them.  
"We've gotten better." Jaskier doubled down on Geralt's sentiment. "My footsteps have gotten softer. Anima nearly hit a doe that one time."  
"Hit a tree about twelves yards past. Never stood a chance." Anima had a cocky grin about her.  
"They try." Geralt shrugged, and trying was more than enough, more than he ever thought someone, let alone two people would care to offer.

"Fuck that!" Jordy was not as swayed by the gesture. "Come on Witchman-"  
"Name's Geralt." He had heard every manner of title before and witchman wasn't as vulgar or spiteful as most but it was the fact that Jordy was going out of his way not to call him by name that was growing old.  
"Anima take my bag to mum. Won't know you by face just tell her your the one who broke me heart." He tossed the bag of drowner bits at Anima, Geralt had to let go of her hand so that it didn't hit her straight in the face.  
"I won't lie to the woman and I don't ever recall Geralt agreeing to anything. You haven't exactly made yourself out to be appealing company Jordy."  
"So he hasn't. Won't be no skin off my teeth. Fact is I can tell me mates a witchman's fraid I'd out hunt em, embarrass him in front of his lass. Ain't that right witchman?" Jordy shoved at one of Geralt's shoulders, all tooth and snarl was what he got in response. Jordy was just antagonizing enough, the vague challenge just appealing enough. It was enough for Geralt to push past Jordy, and begin walking.  
"Anima, you've never met his mother. You two can manage to stay out of trouble for a few hours?"  
"What are you sayin about me-"  
"Shut up." Geralt would not let Jordy wind up again. "Anima?"  
"We can." Anima nodded. She knew Geralt would love Jordy, well not love him, but love the chance to beat him, she had left that part out. That's who Jordy was and he owned it, he was a man you loved to hate.

"I don't get it." Jordy was in danger of losing the witcher who was shifting effortlessly into thicker and thicker brush.  
"I'm sure there's plenty you don't get you're going to have to be more descriptive." Geralt would lose the human first chance he got but he had to walk steady to keep on the faint smell of boar.  
"What did you do to her?" And that question bothered Geralt is a way that didn't even graze amused.  
"I wouldn't do anything to her." Geralt's voice was cold and deliberate, warning Jordy not to tred where he seemed to be stampeding towards.  
"Must've done something Wit-"  
"Geralt."  
"She said no to me."  
"Can't imagine why." Geralt tried to find a particularly steep rock face he could scale.  
"Probably the first time she'd said no in her life. Girl was in the business of saying yes if-" And Jordy's voice was finally nicked from him as Geralt's hand clamped around his throat.  
"Listen. I've been patient with you. Patient with you because Anima was happy to see you but my patience is running thin. I can't tell if she found your jabs to be charming because she didn't think humans were capable of much more in the ways of attention but I assure you I am not charmed." He gave a slight squeeze at Jordy's windpipe before letting go, turning again, resuming his walk.  
"Was both our charms. We were cruel, ain't seen nothin Witchman. Think it was a nice change, not hating behind poliet faces but just out right barking to see who'd flinch first. She riled me, I . . . well she was hard to rile. Made any kind words all the sweeter, make sense?"  
"No." Geralt had gotten a good hold on the trail, he had no need to to linger but he stood firm.  
"Perfect pair of bitter whoresons who were bored with a world with nothing to offer. We made sense to each other but sense wasn't enough seems." Jordy's tone became surprisingly serious. "She said no to me. But yes to you. Now that, makes no sense." The man sat on an half buried ruin.  
"Witchers don't marry."  
"Ain't a prince, no castle but she could've had something stable, wouldn't have to peddle her wares. She said she couldn't be happy with me. Heard rumblings bout a Witchman, then I saw less and less of Anima. When I did, she wasn't the same. So I ask again what did you do to her? Is she happy with you? Unstable, dishonest, in danger by the looks of her. What is it Witchman that you do that makes her happy?" He paused and Geralt was silent for too long, sitting at a distance from the human, a contemplative look on his face. "I ain't aiming to claim the secret for my own. She grows bored with you one day she'll find me all her own. Not pining with blue balls. Just . . . Witchman you don't seem to know much of happy."  
"I . . . honestly don't know. Wish I did. Trying to figure it out myself." Some anger shrugged it's way out. "Said I'd never do anything to her, meant it. For her's different, if I had half a clue I do . . . I promised . . ." He'd do most anything for her, he just didn't know what made her smile. Despite that she gave him those 'wide berths' to feel for himself, to just let it happen when it did and he hit more than he missed, enough for her to choose him over opposition. That was another subtle wash over of not outright victory but a warm assurance. He would be good to her, she believed that. She loved him, he was learning to believe that, on his own terms, in his own time.  
"Hanging around with women and poets too much. Ughhh fine, it's some subtle fairy tale bullshit, grown a soft spot for you Snow White. Just . . . keep her happy alright? If any misserable mutant deserves to be happy it's her I'd like it to be. Now shut your trap and keep those freakish eyes on the tree line."  
"Hmm. I wasn't the one writing a romance novel." Geralt's face lowered slightly not giving Jordy the chance to mock at what was a grin that had more teeth to it than most before it. "I'll do my best." They remained quiet for the next few hours, a few exchanged grunts of frustration or scoffs congratulating dumb luck when a shot or slice rang true enough was all that carried as conversation throughout the hunt.

"You said something about your mother fixing Anima's eyes." Geralt broke the silence as they each carried a boar over their shoulder while nearing Jordy's home.  
"You've never seen Anima with human eyes? Even when you first met? Perhaps she was short on coin at the time. Not sure Mum's fixins would work on a witchman."  
"A glamour spell? Glamour done poorly could've left her blind." Anima had never seemed terribly bothered with her eyes it was surprising that she would go to such lengths to hide them.  
"Well she ain't blind. Me mum's no hack. Headaches sometimes, first few hours were bad near always. Sight's not too bad a thing to gamble if it means people are willin to stomach lookin at ya." It did clear up how she had kept her mutation on a need to know basis before Geralt had come along.

"Ugh is he singing to me mum?" Jordy pushed open the door and sure enough there was Jaskier, a captive audience was a captive audience and the elder Dombor was gushing over the bard. "Hey stop it!" Jordy gave the bard a hefty shove to the back, before placing his catch on the floor. "Mum don't encourage the idiot. Bards are just boys too lazy to learn a real skill, don't go blushin your cheeks at em."  
"Listen you dolt. I make something out of nothing. Nothing! You're the lazy one. Just chopping down what's too slow to run off and shilling it at street corners." Geralt might have not been goaded into a verbal spat with Jordy but Jaskier had no such qualms.  
"Say that to your witchman's face?"  
"Geralt." He tried to remind again that he was a person with a name but both Jordy and Jaskier seemed too busy pacing around the dinner table to hear him.  
"No but there's a clear and ever present difference between the two of you."  
"Two fuckin cat eyes and a razor for each. Gotta work even less hard, lets mum skills do the hard work."  
"Geralt's not a dick!"  
"Jaskier you'll burst something. Simmer." Geralt was ignored again as the two men pulled out every curse and insult ever uttered, spitting them from the depth of their lungs. "Hmm." If he was going to be ignored he might as well be useful, he'd clean the boars outside. He decided he'd prefer to admit defeat that he hasn't solved Sodden before reeking of entrails. She likely wouldn't ignore him. "Jaskier?!"  
"What?!" Red faced and thrashing limbs tore away from arguing to finally acknowledge him.  
"Anima where is she?" She had been smart and dumped the Dombors on the Witcher and bard, off to find some secret thing she'd been pining for near a month. Geralt wasn't angry, a bit surprised at how more and more often she out maneuvered him, but equal parts impressed.  
"The shed out back. Unlike her crooked nose son Annde is considerate. Told her to look around at the old trinkets and tools of the trade. Thought we might as well get use out of them seeing as this churl couldn't sell air to a drowning man."  
"Right." Geralt rolled his eyes, this was getting redundant, and loud. At least Jaskier was getting a verbal workout, maybe he'd be less desperate to chat when they left in the morning.

He felt a worry piece together within him, causing his pace to quicken slightly. As the sounds of bickering thankfully grew quieter and he found his way to the shed his worry was all but confirmed. She had been tossing the bottle up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. "It's long past expired Anima, they're unstable at the freshest." This time Geralt snatched it.  
"I know that. Annde offered to whip me up a new batch if I wanted. I just . . . I don't miss the headaches. Any tolerance I had is long gone."  
"Was this what you were looking for in Sodden?" He sat next to her and the piles of what truly appeared to be junk, and one neat pile of books and bottles that looked similar to the one in his hand.  
"No. Glamor is as easy as fisstech to get your hands on. If you need it you can find it."  
"You don't need it though. Your eyes have never . . . Do they bother you?" He hadn't asked, she just had always appeared confident enough, maybe he just assumed.  
"Hmm? Oh No, I don't have to look at them I couldn't care less, and before you ask I don't care about the looks they get, gawks are old hat." She shrugged.  
"You're just going to have the old woman make some more for old times sake? Lug alchamey books along for weight training?"  
"Just thought we might come across situations where it'd be better if I blend in." The town full of dogs sprung to mind.  
"I wouldn't put you in that position."  
"You wouldn't put me, doesn't mean I wouldn't end up there."  
"Then we'd get out. Gawks will happen, you won't end up on a pyre Anima."  
"You do have an ego about you Geralt." Anima scoffed. Witchers did love being certain. "Not even a bit curious what I looked like when vampires hadn't stretched my purse?" This question had a simple answer, the best sort of answer, one that didn't require words. With a bothered grumble Geralt stood, squared up and gave a weighted kick at the sorted pile of bottles, glass and aged heavy floral noted alcohol flooded the floor.  
"Geralt?! There are other potions in these books don't pickle them!" And he saw it, that smile again, not her coy confident smile of Inns and brothels, no the more he saw it the more he noticed the difference. It was just an ear to ear grin, open and airy, care free. That wave came over him again, that assurance, he could muster that smile out of her, could lift the weight of the world off of her in small spurts like this.

"Can I ask you something Anima?"  
"Sure." The smile burned fast, only the ashes remained as she fanned out some pages of a book.  
"Are you happy?"  
"Happy? About what? You mean just in general? Happy is a reaction emotion it's not a state of being. Well Thill's the exception that proves the rule but-"  
"I'm not asking for the empath explanation." His head would start spinning if he tried to analyze it in the way she was attempting to explain. "Jordy said you rebuffed his proposal because you wouldn't be happy with him. I . . .er . . . I know enough to know what a smile means. You don't smile like that often and I want to be sure . . . You can be happy with me." He paused before sitting back down, knowing her quirk about asking questions from a hight. He bussied the silence by shaking a book dry. "You can say no I will accept that as an answer. Not a final one though. I just need to know if I need to . . ." Just like any other hunt, any other contract he would stick with tactics he trusted and information he knew until the tactics failed him or the information changed. "I'll try harder I just need to know." Anima's silence was not boosting Geralt's confidence but his face remained stoic and patient.  
"You already try hard Geralt." She spoke at first just to give Geralt's jaw a rest. She placed down her book drying her hands on her pants before placing a hand at either cheek kissing him softly. "You can't . . ." She tried to think of the best way to answer his question.  
"You try harder or you die." She was stalling and all the assurance and warmth he felt throughout the day was slowly seeping from him.  
"Do you know what I liked so much about Jordy?"  
"No." He didn't want to know, he didn't want to be Jordy, that man had failed, his tries weren't enough.  
"He doesn't care about anything. Not what he says, not what he does. Not what other's say or do. How the world works, none of it. His wants and needs were unique minute to minute and if I missed them who cared? It took the stress off, I didn't have to care either, I could turn off all the calculations when it came to feelings when I was with him. In short I could turn off what I was. That seemed like the ideal way to live with my condition until unluckily for Jordy and my happy ever after you came along."  
"In short." Geralt scoffed but nodded, this was the part of the story he cared about. "And then I came along."  
"And you cared about all sorts of wild and arbitrary things, at degrees at both ends of the spectrum that made no sense to my senses and that had me . . . feeling, not deliberately or on behalf of another just-"  
"Spontaneously." He remembered her thanking him for that, it had been right before their first kiss.  
"And as you overheard recently it did not turn me head over heels in love with you Geralt. It did however make it clear a life with Jordy would be lacking. If I was to love anyone, I would have to feel spontaneously."  
"In short Anima. Now that you are with me are you lacking?"  
"I am not always happy when with you." She watched the corners of his face pinch. "But I am always feeling. Happy, sad, angry, excited, scared. I can feel any emotion, when I want for as long as I'd like I don't need you for that. I need you to . . . just do your best and keep your promise. You do that and my threat still stands."  
"And what threat is that Anima?" The warmth returned to him all at once as his ears primed to hear one of his more favorite phrases.  
"I aim to keep you Geralt."  
"Hmm." And for a flicker the impossible happened, Geralt was carefree, he smiled. It didn't last, it never could but it was memorable all the same. They were about to leave the shed when something came to mind. "The books. Take them, you've had a mind for potions as of late. You've been looking for a job that earns coin. Work on that skill, at best you can sell stock in towns at worst you'll save me coin." And this smile from her was smaller and unique all it's own, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen hope on her face before.

"Can I ask you something Geralt?" He was up to his forearms in boar guts but if that didn't bother her it didn't bother him.  
"Hmm?"  
"Do you want me to come with you?"  
"Where?" He pulled out a spleen. "Here put this with your books we'll save it." If she did put her mind to it she could be a noteworthy mixer, he'd make sure she was never short on ingredients. Giving her a task outside of tagging along was something he should have put his mind to earlier.  
"Gross." She took it and promptly placed it aside. "But thank you. When we were in Kaer Morhen you were out voted. Ambushed into letting me have my way, letting me travel with you. Then I flip flopped cross the continent on that choice, you had to be the backbone for a decision you didn't make. Lyria's not too far and I want you to have a say in the matter. Not just making a space for me because it's what I want, it's your life that changed too. So I'll ask now and give you some time to think. Do you want me to come with you?"  
"This habit of yours can't go on Anima, pointing to a spot on the map and stating you need to know if I actually want to love you or you'll retreat to that hermit's house in the woods." Geralt let out a sigh. Though he was being a bit harsh, she had asked him a question of a similar tone months back but he hadn't given her an answer and she hadn't pushed, it had been left open ended. "If I say no. will you accept that?" Geralt and Anima entered the home where somewhat impressively the argument was still going. They tried to find sanctuary in the kitchen but they were promptly shooed out of the room by Jordy's mother who would not let guests stand ogling with rumbling bellies at the stove. Jaskier's voice was an octave higher than it should have been implying he was on his fourth or fifth and another thing without stopping for air. The couple sat and watched for a while in admiration for the two men's endurance when it came to insults but eventually resumed their conversation.

"Perhaps, or perhaps I'll have to try harder or die trying. It's just . . .it's been nagging Geralt. What I want for you most, is to be able to wake up every morning and believe that the day has a possibility to be better than the one before it. I've been quite the damsel these last few months and you tore yourself down over it each time. I don't know if these days are better on you than the ones before."  
"Your logic is flawed." Geralt winced as Jordy gave a firm flick to Jaskier's forehead to finally derail him.  
"How's that?"  
"You were plenty a damsel in Lyria, it's in your nature. Roach appreciates the shorter travels to come save you." He shrugged, it was a fact he thought was well established.  
"That is not fair. I got abducted once in Lyria any other dangers I endured were amidst trying to help someone else."  
"A damsel with good intentions is still a damsel. Same could be said for your recent misfortunes. Your moral compass and pain tolerance are a dangerous combination."  
"Said the frog to the toad." And they both could chuckle in mild agreement at that.  
"Secondly. I can't wake up picturing better days if I can't sleep. When you're across camp in Eskel's bed roll, the whole fucking world is shit and I can't fucking sleep." Had they gone near an hour having a civil conversation about their relationship? It was truly a milestone. "Better or worse who knows. I know that how well I sleep is dependent on how close you are."  
"Any other flaws you'd like to point out."  
"I was in my home, not yours."  
"Huh?"  
"I am never more sure of who I am of what I stand for and how my life should be then when I'm in that hunk of stone that's frosted with time. I always leave for the path alone it's a decision I always make. I made the choice not to. I don't need to think on it till Lyria because my logic is sound. I want you to come with me. In short."

"Enough hand holding at the table your upsetting the children." Annde placed some roast boar on the table. Another flicker, another care free moment, Geralt smiled again. He had grabbed Anima's hand at some point, it had been so natural he hadn't even realized it, maybe she hadn't either, he surely would have registered her acknowledgement. The warmth was hugging all around him, there was only one small discomfort keeping him from getting lost in it, hunger. He could tell by the smell of it Annde had not held back on the spices like Anima tended to do on his behalf but it was hot and it was plentiful and nothing tasted better than a hot meal costing only the time to catch it. "Jaskier if you let this woman's hospitality grow cold with your incessant arguing I'll hang you by your tongue."  
"I'm defending our honor!"  
"What honor?" Jordy snorted flicking the bard again which prompted Annde to throw a candle stick at her sons head. "Ow!"  
"Ha! Serves you right."  
"Oh just fuckin-"  
"For two humans who dislike when empaths meddle with their emotions you both have been asked to calm down and eat dinner quite a few times." Anima was just as efficient with empty threats as she was with magic and potions, this finally got Jaskier and Jordy civil and to the table. They even bonded at a shared jolt of terror at the thought of having Anima root about.

"Hungry lads." Annde was clearly pleased with having company, even more pleased at how Geralt and Jaskier quickly agreed to seconds. "How long do you plan on staying Anima? I may need a hand in the market to keep you all fed."  
"We won't impose. Stay till breakfast if you'll have us?" Anima passed her plate over to Geralt before he could tell her one more time food tastes better when eaten.  
"You don't have to rush. Stay a few days-"  
"Mum if I warned the doxy once I've warned her a thousand times. Less your comin to settle down as me wife don't get stuck in Sodden. He's dumb for you, figure you're still smitten with your Witchman?"  
"His name is Geralt. And yes I'm dumb for him too."  
"Then the fuck are you doing in Sodden in the first place? I've told you there's nothing here." And this brought all chewing and chatting to a pause. Geralt shot Anima a questioning glance.  
"If I told you it'd ruin it." Anima shook her head.  
"Ruin . . . fuck it I don't care." Jordy was not one for puzzles and riddles. "If you're only here for the night get a load on." He stood from the table, he looked eagerly at the door.  
"I could bring some culture to these uncouth masses." Jaskier seemed in agreement.  
"Forget culture bring your c-"  
"Jordy!" Annde scolded her son.  
"Fine, fine come on." Jordy waved them on.  
"Have fun. I think I'm eying up that loft more than I am a tavern." Anima shook her head again, getting another questioning look from Geralt.  
"Feeling alright?" He'd never heard her turn down a drink, he places the back of his hand to her forehead. _'She's not sick.'_  
"Fine. Go ahead."  
"If you think you're leaving me with those two you've lost it." Geralt leaned further into his chair.  
"Gettin dull doxy. Come on your royal highness, your blabbering's got to be good for something." Jordy held open the door and after a huff then a very why not shrug Jaskier followed.

After some more casual conversation with Annde they finally retreated to the upper loft of the home. Anima was already getting undressed seemingly getting ready for bed. "It was a trick question then? Jordy was right there's nothing in Sodden?" Geralt had spent the better part of the day searching for an answer, he could not sleep leaving it open ended.  
"Not a trick question but that's the right answer. Sodden might be home to something of importance one day but not today and not by breakfast. There's nothing in Sodden and that's exactly what I was after."  
"Care to elaborate?" A Month, she had been speaking of Sodden for a month if not longer. For nothing?  
"I told you I'd help you understand your emotions better. To understand them you have to feel them. With nothing going on, no fight to be had no damsel to save tell me you didn't feel more effortlessly? What?" She saw Geralt's eyes go wide and she couldn't tell if the surprise on his face was a pleasant or angry one.

At first he was bewildered. For a month she had been planning on Sodden on the off chance he'd be relaxed enough to feel? She had been right though, he had acknowledged a handful of emotions throughout the day. Amused, guilty, jealous, angry, eager, carefree but more than anything that somewhat general warm feeling. _'Not by chance.'_ He made sense of it the only way he knew how. People often mistakenly thought what made Witcher's such effective monster hunters were the mutations, the improved sight and use of convenient signs but what really made them formidable were their brains, packed to the brim with knowledge on every monster or curse ever witnessed, they knew how to draw out the beasts and what tools were needed to rid them. Same surely went with empaths. Anima could manipulate emotions with magic sure, but her true skill lay in the knowledge of emotions, their natural workings and uses. "I did." He realized he had been quiet for too long. "I underestimated you." It was impressive but also concerning, he'd have to keep a watchful eye on her, while she'd never conspire to hurt him it did not mean she was not conspiring and he was unsure how in the dark he was willing to be. She hid much more than he previously thought.  
"Everyone fears the wolf-"  
"Overlooks the fox." She had spoken that in Kaer Morhen. "Do you think I've earned enough trust to tell me what you're up to?"  
"All you have to do is ask Geralt. Your questions always are welcomed." She smiled softly and kissed him on the cheek before placing her face against his chest.  
"Hmm." And it hit him again, that warmth, she was right. So long as he sat while speaking she had never been anything but truthful when he asked something of her, she hid but she also came out of the shadows when he asked. He just needed to ask the right questions, and in odd way like solving Sodden he welcomed the obscure challenge.  
"Hmm." He pondered further, what was the right question now? "Why did you turn down the tavern?"  
"Said if you figured out what I wanted in Sodden I'd start to show you how just to feel. And you did, so I will." And she pulled back kissing him, letting the warmth inside him rise and rise but then she pulled back even further and the heat inside him became uncomfortable.  
"Anima?" He watched curiously as she stood, walked over to her cloak and pulled something out. It was a length of fabric, a thin scarf, it was an ugly floral print and he wasn't sure when or where she got it but he knew what she aimed to use it for. His mind shot back to her hand over his eyes as she made her previous promise. "Do we have. . ." His throat was dry and he felt . . . apprehensive. "Why?" The thought of losing one of his major senses sent him into not a panic but more of a fight or flight response. If that's what she wanted, if that would please her, he'd try but he felt it important to voice his concern.  
"Don't worry." Anima shook her head. "It's not for you." She returned to him, watching him let out a sigh of relief before giving him a reassuring kiss. "Not yet." She watched his eyes for a response. "Never if you hate it so." She added with a chuckle before handing the fabric over to him.  
"Not yet." He repeated and while the apprehension returned it came with curiosity and maybe even excitement.  
"I can't rightly show you how to just feel all in one night. To start I just want to show you that your feelings are more complex than you think Geralt and you should explore them at your own pace in your own time. Go on." She closed her eyes and waited. "All I ask is that you're telling me what you're doing." She felt the fabric brace against the bridge of her nose, tie behind her ears. "And why." She said the later part more sternly, that was most important, that's where the lesson laid. He could hear her breath pick up, she was confident but still nervous. The heat in him grew, there was a want in him he couldn't place and it was tingling through his skin. He stared at her, she was sitting in a trusting darkness for him and he heard himself let out a small groan just from that. "Geralt?" Her voice wasn't scared but searching, calling out to find him and for a split second he wanted to hear it again, let her search for him more but finally he spoke. His voice sounded hungrier than expected.  
"I'm here Anima. I'll be good to you I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this very long arc is upon us. Is there somewhere or something anyone reading this would prefer I go next?


	15. Blindfold beginings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exploring in the dark can be thrilling but it can also cause you to trip.

"You've been sitting there very quiet for quite a while. If you've fallen asleep on me I'm not going to lie that'll sting a little." She sounded less nervous maybe she'd grown used to the dark.  
"Not asleep." It wasn't exactly a great response but it was the first thing that came to mind.  
"Geralt?" The nerves were back, clearly not the right response.  
"Hmm?" No that wasn't much better. "Yes? Are you alright?" He was a bit dumbstruck he wasn't sure why a simple piece of fabric over her eyes was causing such a stir in him.  
"If this is uncomfortable for you I can-" She went to untie the knot behind her head but there was swiftly a hand over hers and that caused her to let out a little shriek.  
"Sorry . . .I . . . It's me I'm here. . . that's my hand." He let out a sigh, this was oddly frustrating. She had asked him to tell him what he was doing and his first movement had come unwarned.  
"That's good." The nerves were gone again, he couldn't make sense of it. She reached out grabbing blindly till she found the collar of his shirt, with better bearings she let her hand go up his neck, her thumb ran across his face. "Geralt what are you feeling right now?"  
"Me?" She was the one who couldn't see, she shouldn't be checking in on his well being.  
"Yes you. I know how I feel. Fine, somewhat on edge if I'm being honest. You seem a bit spooked. If you don't want to-"  
"I want to." He leaned into her hand then leaned closer towards her but stopped. "I'm . . ." It sounded nothing short of dumb to announce his actions. "I'm going to kiss you." But she had asked and he understood, so he relented.  
"Why?" If announcing his actions sounded dumb the follow up question was outright idiotic. He grumbled slightly, if this was going to be so conversation heavy maybe it wasn't worth the bother.  
"Because I want to." If he had tried to hide any of his annoyance or frustration he did not do it well. He was waiting for it again to be not the right response, for her to ask why again.

"Are you pausing for something in particular?" In waiting he had left her on that edge she had spoken about, he saw her bite at the corner of her lip, and the nerves they were back. Were they supposed to be there? Did he want the nerves? He had already warned so this time he moved, he leaned in and kissed her, he could feel jump as if it was still a surprise and that confirmed it. He liked the nerves of the jump because what he liked better came after, she calmed and melted under his lips and that was something he wanted more of. "I'm going to undress you Anima." It still sounded dumb but he fought less against using words this time.  
"Why?" The whys just seemed so useless but perhaps there was a lesson he wasn't grasping. So he thought on it for a moment but still only the simplest answer came to mind.  
"Because I want to see more of you." At first he rationalized how slowly he was making the process as an atempt not to spook her with any sudden movements but he realized quickly that was nearly opposite his true motives. He could see her cheeks go redder and redder and he could feel her tense tighter and tighter, her breaths growing a bit more shallow and he was doing it so the melt would be longer, better. Eventually she was bare, eventually the little short breaths gave way to words.  
"Geralt?" And he let her search for him for a moment, but when he heard her heart start to thump a little closer to panic he answered.  
"I'm here." He ran his knuckles down her spine softly.  
"That's good." She nodded, sighed and arched at his touch and he was finding this all so pleasing and distracting that her question hit him out of nowhere. "Are you not undressing?"  
"Not yet." The worlds just tumbled out as he let his fingers trace over skin.  
"Why?" And now the whys made sense. Anima knew even before this started that he would begin doing things that on the surface did not make sense and she didn't want that question to come off as dismissive or acusatory. He should have been shucking off clothes left right and center but he wasn't, didn't want to, not yet.  
"I just want to watch you a little longer." It was a questioning statement, almost asking for permission. He kissed at her neck and for no other reason than because it felt right he bit with just enough pressure to get another little shriek and then feel her body relax under him.  
"Geralt! You're supposed to be telling me what you're doing." She didn't sound angry, almost smiling even.  
"I know." And he thought for a moment before kissing where he bit. "I don't want to." And he thought a bit more, kissed a bit more. "I will . . ." She had asked so simply he wasn't sure what made him deny her.  
"Why don't you want to?" For as on edge from all the teasing and touching left her voice, she still sounded boundlessly patient.  
"Hmm." He wanted an answer, one that might give him permission to act with less talking. "I . . . The way you react, like your searching for me I . . ."  
"Like I need you." She chose those words carefully, purred them delightfully and she was rewarded with a wonderful humm of agreement from deep in Geralt's chest.  
"I know your not weak Anima I know you don't-"  
"Relax Geralt. It can be fun to be a little weak and needy now and again. Especially if it's of your own choosing." She was fiddling with the blindfold scrunching her nose at it, he wondered if she did enjoy this at all. Sitting naked in the dark with her lover fully clothed just whistfuly touching and teething what was there to be enjoyed on her part? He could fix that though, he would. He grabbed at her kness, no more soft circling fingers he dug in slightly holding firmly and he could feel her tense and she didn't melt this time, she tense further, in want, in need. He spread them apart, and brought his mouth down to her and the way her hips bucked wether it be from shock or lust sent heat through every inch of him. He kissed teasingly only for a moment, till he heard his name called too close to a whine.

"Geralt!" He wanted her needing not lacking so he began to give her the attention she was blindly bucking for. He kept his eyes on her could feel her under his mouth and hands, the nerves would rise, perhaps at being so bare and lechorous. then they would melt away, because she knew he had her, firmly and protectively she trusted him and more than that while in that trusting state she was pleased, just with him, just with the moment. He pulled back to say something but she grabbed his hair probably harder than intended but it spoke to the want, to the need and any grumble from Geralt, any discomfort, was outweighed by the pleasure of the notion.  
"Anima?"  
"Not . . . now . . . not this time please." It took a minute to register the request. She was close and Geralt had a nasty habit of holding her in this place, asking for words or moans, just louder, just more want. "Annde is downstairs and you can't convince me she won't hear. So I know you love to hear me howl but not-"  
"They're not howls." That short retort was all he said before returning to his efforts. She was already trusting him so much, she was already so exposed, he had not earned the right to ask for more, but perhaps he could. That's why when she did finally melt and shiver under him he did not relent, even when she became twitchy and hard to hold due to oversenitivity he continued with unwavering determination. Through the twitching till she tensed and melted all over again, he had her panting and groaning but he didn't stop, not till her hand was in his hair again.  
"A break Geralt, give your tongue a break. Give me a break. I'm fine for the moment. . .You've been quite good to me Geralt. My legs won't come back to me, I won't be able to be good to you." Her words were loose and lovely and only one hit poorly as he finally pulled back. He kissed up her thighs, up her abdomen, into her throat where he rested.  
"I don't want you fine." It was deep and dark like a threat but Geralt didn't know how to purr so he spoke how came naturally right into her ear.

He ran fingers through her hair, kissed at her neck till any over sensitive jitters had finally soothed and then he stood. "I'm going to undress." He explained himself as he saw her lean a bit worried for the warm body that wasn't there. "Anima do you still need me? Still want me?" He had finally found himself in the right frame of mind, finally found himself relaxed in this moment.  
"I do Geralt." Her breath was losing some of it's warm heady undertones, a fraction only a Witcher's ear could notice. "Want you." The words were not lies. "Need you." But she was tucking those truths back, trying not to lose herself in them, always needing her wits about her.  
"Will you show me?" And he could see it, even from the corner of his eye as he disrobed that perhaps he was asking too much, she had been confident up to this point but here she tightened in a contemplation, unsure of the right thing to do.  
"Why?" She wasn't dumb she knew what he was asking of her and her face was all the redder for it, her voice all the smaller. He needed exactly the right response, the right reassurance that her trust and patience up till this point were not being abused or manipulated. He had no cruel intent, he knew the difference between the tensing and the squirm and did not find joy in the later.  
"I want you to get lost in it Anima, I'll have you I'll be here. You'll search for me, need me and I'll be here. I'll be-" He didn't need to say it for the hundredth time, that he'd be good to her. She teetered at this point like she always did, this point of baring want. "You won't stay lost Anima. I've been told I'm quite the tracker. I've told you before, once I've found something I don't lose it. I'll always find you no matter where you go." It again came out as a threat but of the best order, in the most loving way a threat could sound. He watched with hungry appreciation as her hand slunk nervously down to where was still wet, a wetness he could still taste. His spine stretched long as the heat inside him burned from both ends. From the pool of pulsing heat in his core, rutting slightly at the air as he finally was free from the confines of clothing. From his head that tilted back as he smelled her, saw her, heard her. the medley on his senses made him groan deep, loud, primal and hungry. He had enough of the foreplay, he was throbing with want, hurting to act but he waited, he vaguely knew he was waiting for something.

"And what about you Geralt? It sounds like you need me." She paused as she heard footsteps approach, and her anticipation subconsciously made her hand work with more fever, the thought of having him, of feeling him was bringing her close again. "But I can't see you. Can't feel you. I want-" And her words were taken from her as she felt her hair bunch in a grabbing fist, his other hand rolling down the back of her neck, but that's it, he moved no further, he was still waiting for something. Anima would be proud this hold had a dual purpose. First it said the words that for some reason weren't forming on his lips, he wanted her, he needed her. It also made it so he wouldn't miss it, if his response had not been the right one he'd feel the squirm still in her. She would be, say, do anything to please him, but if he felt that squirm, even if her words and actions called for more he would stop. There wasn't a squirm, there was a pretty little groan of need, her mouth remained open, resting agape in want. And the warmth grew, he slipped beyond her lips and slowly rocked his hips, gently at first, letting it build and build. The hand resting at the base of her neck slid up her throat, his thumb ran along her stretched jaw.  
"Anima I . . ." Words were simply dying right at the tip of his tongue. "I don't know what . . .mm. . .I want to see you . . ." And his head bucked back again, all this waiting had him pacing towards relief. "Want you to see . . ." What did he want, he couldn't really find purchase of that thought. "What you've done to me Anima, what you're doing to me." He stilled, it hit him what he wanted but he had to warn her first. "I'm going to take it off alright?" He managed to force the words out almost to heed his hip's need to move again. He watched for her to nod and pulled off the blindfold, her eyes blinked in adjustment, to just a slightly less dark. When her eyelids finally settled he could see how blown her gaze was, not thoughtless but single purposed, just wanting and her eyes held at him, wanting him. "Found you." And he felt her groan over him at the words.  
"Anima." And he pulled away, it hurt not to press forward but he was moving before thinking, hurt was bound to happen. He crouched, pushing at one of Anima's shoulder till she laid under him. "Everything is. . . You're . . . Fuck. " For once he wanted words, wanted to thank her, wanted to praise her, to ask her what could please her half as well as this had for him but words didn't fall from the sky because he wanted them to and sentences continued to break off into nothing. "What can I . . . I want to do . . ."  
"Stop talking Geralt. Please." It could have sounded mean or condecending but Geralt didn't take it that way, he could see it in her face before the words came out. "I just need you to fuck me before I go mad." There was almost an exhaustion to this plead. Again he was leaving her waiting, on edge, hell he had asked her to put herself on said edge, she would never allow this again if he didn't repay this patience with something. It had to be better than something, had to be worth the wait.

He loomed over her and thrust with a briliant force, deep and thurough and promising. His let an arm pull under her back snatching her up to him and he heard a moan, a different moan and just a little quiet word.  
"Tighter." Past experiences and little innocuous moments all connected in his head and he knew what to do and that swell of victory spun in with the heat burning him alive. It was smooth and agile, how quickly he took them from totally horizontal to completely vertical. He was up on his feet without putting any stutter to their frenzied rhythm. One arm pressed firm against her back, pushing her against him, daring to press with a bit more strength than he normally would. His opposite hand pulled her down by the shoulder, bringing her weight down into him, holding her there. She found ways to arch and buck to meet each thrust but he had her thoroughly, from every angle. He had her and was not letting go. She wanted to be held confidently and encompassing and he could do that, preened at the opportunity to do so. "I love you Geralt." And it was a bit odd how rarely they said that to each other just to say it, just to mean it. Normally it was as a reminder if one had forgotten, or an apology begging not to lose it. This was one of those rare occasions that garnered just an honest exclamation of what flowed between them. She felt safe and nestled, pleased and cherished, a state of floaty feelings she would never try to juggle on her own. He let his chin fall over the shoulder not being held, pressing into her, holding her with every bit of him available. If it had been a moment earlier he might have opted to bite, to sink in his teeth in but he wanted to hold tenderly at the sound of the proclimation. He didn't always have to find the words, sometimes being a man of action, someone that would hold her as if waves were beating down wasn't just as good, it was better.  
"Love you." He'd never learn to purr but this was close, this couldn't be confused with dark and threatening. "Love you." It tumbled out again as he felt both their bodies snap tight. "Love you Anima." It was all the warm feelings of the day, all the heat of the night and all the constant burning of his adoration deep and assertive, exactly what was needed, what was wanted. She adjusted her face to find a way to kiss him, starting as a fevered onslaught to stifle the moans of the climax taking them, then melting. They melted, till the kiss was just reiterating, just assuring in ways too soft to be laid on a witcher, of a love that wasn't for one.  
"Geralt." She cooed his name almost to reiderarte the point, it was for him, just uniquely for him.

His arm around her waist held, as did the resiting of his face in the crook of her neck but his arm at her shoulder eventually left, so that he could lay them down comfortably, it wasn't as heavy but he spooned around her not letting go. "So?"  
"Anima. Not yet." He couldn't take one of her so's right now he had a lot of thoughts coming to his now much clearer mind, thoughts he was trying to sort out.

"It's not as rare as you think Geralt." She stated somewhat lazily, her head lulling back to hit at his chest. "To like both. Leading and being led. Like I said your feelings are less linear than you've convinced yourself. It's good to explore how you feel. You'll learn more about yourself." She knew Geralt thought all he wanted in their intimate moments was affirmation, was some praise now and again. But she saw the deeper edges to those wants, he sometimes wanted not just her pleased moans, he wanted her trust, wanted to have her trust him despite her head, and that was not the desires of someone soely content to be led. She knew he boiled down most of his emotions into linear constants because that was practical, and she thought this, through actions, was the best example she could have for him to see there was more to him.  
"Hmm." He let her words sink in. "And you Anima? Are you one of those people?" He could accept this lesson for what it was, she made her point and she had figured correctly even without him knowing himself but he would not let his deeper wants drown out her comforts.  
"Sometimes it's nice to not be so . . . in my head. Not often, but sometimes I like the feeling of just . . .feeling. I have to be in quite the mood." She paused, she had to be careful here. "I was in quite the mood."  
"How will I know? I don't want to push you."  
"You like pushing." She shook her head.  
"I don't want to push too hard. I've done it before. I don't want to push you away." And the arm around her waist held firmer. "I'd never want to . . . I could hurt you if I push too hard. I won't lose you to something so-"  
"Relax. Stop talking like you've hurt me something awful. I feel that went well." She spun in her spot, turning to let her face rest against his heartbeat, humming happily. "Lucky for you I am . . . I liked your way of putting it, a seer of all wants and needs. Until you get a natural gague for it trust that I will know when you want in that way and if I'm in quite the mood we'll explore together."  
"Hmm." He was weary but also he felt he had shown he could be attentive of his pushes, maybe there was a balance to be found. "Thank you for being patient." He knew this hadn't been an effortless endulgence, he came out of the starting block confused and apprehensive, but she had taken precautions, she had been thoughtful.  
"Yes." She answered a question that he worried he couldn't word right. "And you're welcome." And she responded to what he had actually uttered.  
"Yes to what?"  
"I've done this before. I've done most everything before." And the words were a bit colder than those before. Not pained or forlorn just detatched and a little icy because of it. So he held her closer, tried to give her all his warmth.  
"Anima I'm sorry I didn't-"  
"But I try not to think about it that way, and that's not so hard." She craned her neck so he could see the smile on her face. "You hold me. Just like this. Even during you hold me . . . it almost seems like your always holding me. That's something that was new. It's something I love about you Geralt. I will be patient with you through anything and everything. Will you hold me-"  
"Should have told me sooner." He nuzzled at her neck. "Did I give the impression that holding you was something I didn't like?"  
"No. I know you don't mind just . . . Part of me will always worry one day that will change. I don't want to get used to it and-"  
"Get used to it. You may change on an Oren. I've a stubborn way about me and I've been searching for something that pleases you outright. Lucky for you I'm, I think the words were quite the wall. I'll hold you till I crumble Anima." And any residuel worry left with a scoff.  
"You have another question." She could see that thinking very witcher thoughts face of his, that was a face that would keep them both up. This question wasn't about what they had done. "About what's next. Do you already have a job lined up?"  
"I Think Jaskier has it all wrong I think you can read thoughts." He rolled his eyes. Was he that transparent to her? _'Oh well_ ' He yawned a bit before speaking, the possibility that she was in his head didn't alarm like it had years ago. "Is there something I could do . . . to make you like Kaer Morhen. I want you to like it this time." He stated it as fact, they would stop in Lyria it'd be cruel and out of their way not to and summer was just turning to fall, he had months of work to do but he wanted them to winter in Kaer Morhen.  
"Jaskier will be thrilled." Anima smiled.  
"He deserves to be thrilled." Geralt nodded. _'Poor Lambert.'_ He thought for a moment. "But you didn't answer my question."  
"I'm not sure. I don't know much of the place other than it's full of witchers that don't think much of me. I can't ask you to change that. So . . ." She yawned. "On the way to Lyria, tell me more about your home. Then I'll know what comforts from mine I'll need to bring. Will you show me the mountains?"  
"Yes." And he could feel the snow beneath their feet, was plotting out what path he thought would be best, thinking of what else he could show her. His mind buzzed with thoughts of months away, of after.

Tomorrow could be better than today because it was one day closer to winter. And in winter he Anima and Jaskier would breach the gates again. They had come last time as a witcher a bard and an empath, they had become more than those titles, they were different. Geralt would make sure Kaer Morhen was more than just a fortress, he'd make sure it'd be different. "Sleep." He kissed the top of her head. "Try not to break my nose." He smiled not quite carefree but lightly all the same.  
"No promises." She smiled back. And they slept and dreamed and nothing became of Sodden and by morning they left, starting back on the path, their path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems like it just . . . ends but if I didn't just end it and had more Sodden, more Jaskier, more Jordy (One of my top three OC to date.) I'd never end this story. On to plotting the next, nothing set in stone except Kaer Morhen, possibly more Jaskier and Eskell, and assuridly more throw away secondary characters, shoe horned smut and angst, ever bountiful angst.


End file.
